


Indivisible From the Curtains, I Am the Disappeared

by Bluehaven4220



Category: due South
Genre: Discussion of Abortion, F/M, Forced Pregnancy, Forced Prostitution, Implied/Referenced Incest, Past Abortion, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Pre-Series, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-05-01 19:00:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 23,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5217128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluehaven4220/pseuds/Bluehaven4220
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pamela “Pam” Coltrane has slipped through the cracks. The only person who can pull her back is her best friend Ray Kowalski, and that is a terrifying thought. Ray/OFC, eventual Benton Fraser/ Ray Kowalski.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Let's See How Far We've Come

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS ABOUND! This story deals with Past Rape/Non-Con, implied incest, forced pregnancy, forced prostitution, mentions of past abortions and abuse. If this story is not your cup of tea, please stop reading now. 
> 
> Beta'd by the absolutely fantastic, brilliantly talented ButterflyGhost.

“I hate ties,” Ray growled as he adjusted the material for the seventh time that hour. “I can’t ever seem to get it right,” he fumbled with it, throwing his hands in the air. “Or without feeling like I’m choking myself.”

“Here,” his work partner, Benton Fraser, RCMP, stepped in front of the mirror and made quick work of the material that had so offended Ray.

“Thanks,” Ray answered, centering it in order to make sure it was as perfect as he could stand it. But who was he kidding? Everything Benton Fraser touched turned to gold, why wouldn’t a tie as well? “You sure it doesn’t look like a tree trunk?”

“No, I assure you, it does not look like a tree trunk,” Ben answered as he switched places with Ray, who had gone to sit on the bed and retie his dress shoes. “You look perfectly fine, Ray,” he said as he straightened his lanyard. “Why are you so nervous?”

“It’s not every day your niece graduates from high school,” Ray stood up and went behind Ben, running a hand through his what- Fraser- called- experimental hair.

“Yes, that’s true,” Ben nodded. “Although, I must confess to being a little confused. How can Emily Coltrane be your niece if you were an only child?”

“I didn’t tell you that story?”

“Not as yet, no,” he answered as he grabbed his hat off the chair nearest to the closet and left the bedroom. “Although you did mention something about a Pamela Coltrane?”

“Pam is Emily’s mom,” Ray smiled, following close behind. “And for the first two years of her life, Emily called me Daddy.”

“Ah.”

“What ‘ah’? What’s ‘ah’ supposed to mean?” Ray almost jumped as he grabbed his jacket and slung it over his shoulders.

“Nothing, just a way of processing information,” Ben  retrieved his own jacket and went out the door. The two of them made their way out of the building and to Ray’s car. “I didn’t realize you were a father, Ray.”

“I’m not,” he clarified. “At least, not biochemically.”

“Biologically.”

“Yeah, yeah, what you said,” he nodded as they made their way down familiar streets (well, familiar to Ray) toward Rutherford High School, his and Pam’s old stomping grounds.

They waited, smiling and clapping as Emily walked across the stage, received her diploma and flashed them the “thumbs up” from the stage.  But it wasn’t until Pam had invited them over to the house for coffee and cake that Ben and Pam were formally introduced.

“So, Benton, Ray tells me you’re his new partner?” she asked as they sat down together, pouring coffee as Emily joined them, tucking her dress underneath her to avoid any exposure. “I’m so proud of you, baby girl.”

“Mom, please, not in front of Uncle Ray.”

“Hey Peanut, it’s not any worse than when I changed your diapers and you peed on me.”

“Eww,” Emily rolled her eyes, adjusting her dress.

“In answer to your question, Pamela, yes, I’m Ray’s new partner. I first came to Chicago on the trail of the killers of my father, and for reasons that don’t need explaining at this juncture, I’ve remained. Attached as liaison at the Canadian Consulate.”

“That’s quite a mouthful,” Pam had to stop her eyebrows from shooting into her hairline. “I'm sorry to hear about your father though.”

“Thank you kindly, Pamela.”

“Please, call me Pam. No one’s called me Pamela since before little Miss was born.”

“Mom, please.” Emily repeated as she pushed herself up from the table. “I’m going to go change into comfy clothes, is that okay?”

“Go ahead, honey,” Pam nodded.

“Hey Peanut, come here,” Ray stopped his niece and waited until she came over and bent down. He gave her a quick, chaste kiss on the cheek and hugged her tightly. “I’m so proud of you. You did so well.”

She smiled and went out of the room.

“She’s beautiful, Pam, you did good,” Ray reached forward and gripped his best friend’s hand.

“That’s not just me, and you know that, Ray Kowalski,” Pam insisted. “The fact that she’s headed off to college is because of you, me, and your parents.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, Pam, and if you don’t want to tell me, then please don’t feel obligated, but how did that come about?”

“You mean, how can Emily be Ray’s niece if Ray and I aren’t related?”

“That’s one way to put it,” Ben agreed. “Although if it makes you uncomfortable...”

“No, no, it was a long time ago. I don’t mind telling the story, it’s just rather long.”

“We’ve got time,” Ray reassured her. “Nowhere else to be tonight. I’ll put on another pot of coffee,” Ray got up and went from the kitchen table to the coffee maker, refilling it and setting it to brew again.

“You sure you want to hear it?”

Ben nodded.

“Alright, take your jacket off, stay for a while,” she smiled, leaning back in her chair. “This whole thing started just after I’d turned seventeen, and it was also the worst year of my life…”


	2. The Experts at the Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we first meet Pam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that the same warnings apply throughout the whole story. 
> 
> As always, many many many thanks to ButterflyGhost for the beta.

I can still remember the day I saw him again. I don’t even remember how Ray and I met up that day, but I think I was running. I do remember  that I wasn’t wearing much to protect me against the heat, just an old t-shirt and shorts with ripped up shoes. I don’t even know how long I’d been running for, but when I finally ran into what I now know as Caruthers boxing gym, he was there.

I didn’t even stop once I got there; the only thing I could think of was that I had to keep going. If I didn’t, I was sure I was going to die. I think I heard someone shout at me to turn around and go out the door. It was then I fell to my knees, wretched, and didn’t get up again.

I think I heard someone running toward me. No, scratch that, I know someone ran toward me, because I felt them turn me onto my back. My eyes were half-closed, my breathing heavy, but the minute he took off his gloves I knew it was him.

“Oh God, Pam….” I heard him whisper as he bent down to check that I was breathing. “Coach!” I heard him shout. “Coach! Call an ambulance!”

An ambulance? No, Good Lord, no! I opened my mouth to protest. No, I didn’t want an ambulance, I didn’t want anyone touching me, poking and prodding and trying to find out if there was something wrong with me. I was fine, just ran too hard. Just let me find some water and I’d be fine.

But no, he would not let me up. It wasn’t until I was being loading onto a stretcher and taken to the hospital that I realized he wasn’t in the ambulance with me. I understand that they wouldn’t let him in the ambulance since he wasn’t family, and he probably had a practice to finish, but at that point I wasn’t sure I cared. In reality, all I wanted was to get up and out.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” the person sitting next to me asked. “Can you remember your name?”

“Pa… Pamela.” My voice cracked, my throat dry. “Can… can I have some water?”

“Soon, we just want to get you checked out.” He waited to look at me while he wrote down my name. “Your name’s Pamela? Pamela what?”

“Coltrane,” I whispered as they filled in the forms necessary to make sure I would get checked out properly.

“You don’t have I.D. on you, Pamela. Where are you from?”

It was then I started coughing violently, my body heaving with each blow to my chest. It wasn’t long until I started vomiting, unable to stop. I looked up at the paramedic sitting beside me with pleading eyes.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t have that water.”

“I’m sorry…” I managed. “Oh God, I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t worry, sweetie. You’ll be alright. We’re going to see what’s going on.” I heard the telltale noises of an IV being hooked up.

“Will you stay with me?” I pleaded.

“Of course, Pamela.”

“Pam,” I insisted, wiping my mouth and laying back on the stretcher. “Call me Pam.”

Whatever it took, I was not going to let them know what had happened to me. Never. It was no one’s business but mine. I had run, and passed out because I hadn’t had enough water. That’s all there was to it.

**ooOoo**

Ray came to see me once I’d been looked over by the doctor, and subsequently checked into a hospital room. I was hooked up to another IV and an oxygen tube was shoved up my nose. I felt dirty and disgusting. I hadn’t showered yet. And the doctor said I wasn’t allowed to go until they had an adult’s signature.

Yeah, snowball’s chance in Hell of that happening.

I turned my head to see him coming toward me.

“You look like Hell, Pam.”

“Gee, thank you dear, I was just about to say how pretty you looked today too.”

He pulled up a chair next to my bed and took my hand in his. “What happened?”

I didn’t even need to say anything. Perhaps the look in my eyes was enough.

“Oh Pam…” he breathed. “Pam, I’m so sorry.”

“It isn’t your fault, Ray. He’s my father, he has a problem, and it’s not my job to fix it. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Do you have somewhere to go?”

I shook my head just as the nurse came in with a chart. “Pamela?” she asked.

“Yes, Karen?” Karen had been kind enough to hold my hand while the doctor had been doing tests. Yes, I know I said I wasn’t going to tell anyone what had happened but, in all fairness, I had to get them done. I couldn’t deny it anymore. I needed to be looked over to make sure everything was normal. But judging from the expression on her face, everything was not normal.

“Can I speak to you alone?”

“Uh uh…” I know I sounded very much like a child at that point, but I didn’t care. I wanted Ray beside me. At that point, he was my only lifeline. The only thing that was real that I could hold on to. “Can I have Ray here, please? I don’t want to be alone.”

“Alright, but I need you to understand what I’m about to tell you.”

I nodded, squeezing Ray’s hand.

Karen’s pulled up a chair to the other side of my bed. “You’re pregnant, sweetheart.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I felt my face contort into a sob that felt like my intestines were being turned inside out. I let go of Ray’s hand and covered my face, leaning into his chest. I didn’t dare look up at his face, but I could picture the look of shock as he held me to him.

“But you do have several options. You could carry the baby to term and look into adoption, you could keep the baby if you wish, or…” she paused, taking a breath. “Or there is abortion.”

“I don’t know,” I sobbed. “I… I can’t care for a baby, but… I don’t know. I don’t know.”

Karen nodded, sighing. “Is there someone I can call for you, sweetheart? The baby’s father, perhaps? Your parents?”

I shook my head, keeping my face covered until she turned to leave. Something to do with forms that I had to sign.

“Hey, uh, could you call my parents?” Ray called to Karen, saving me from having to speak. “Damien and Barbara Kowalski,” he added, rattling off their phone number. “Tell them their son Stanley’s at the hospital with Pam Coltrane, they’ll know what it means.”

It must have been important to him if he was telling them his actual first name. He hated being called Stanley, or Stan for that matter. Karen scribbled down the phone number, nodded and left us alone together.

I felt Ray kiss my temple as I brought my hands down from my face. I was sure I looked a mess, but with Ray gross and disgusting from his practice at the boxing gym, I’m sure we made an interesting pair.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he muttered in my ear. That being said, he had the decency not to ask why I wasn’t going to call the father. But it was a question that hung in the air, and I understood he wanted to know why.

I looked at him with tears welling. “I don’t know who the father is, Ray,” I confessed, “It could be any number of people. It didn’t matter who it was, just so long as I brought in the money.”

“Money?” Ray’s mouth dropped open and his face went white. The entire thing hit him like a swift kick to the nether regions, I’m sure. “Pam, I need you to look at me.”

I wouldn’t. I pulled away from him and bit my lip, willing myself to keep quiet.

“Pam, look at me,” he whispered, gently bringing my hand down and making me look him in the eyes. Oh God, the expression on his face was absolutely heartbreaking. “Have you been hooking?”

No, not hooking, I said to myself. Hooking, for me, would have meant that I wanted to do it. My father had been selling me to his friends. Three, four, sometimes five a night. I took it upon myself to get tested for STDs and other things every month, for my own sanity and peace of mind. This would be my fourth abortion, if I chose to go through with it. Yes, in case you’re wondering, this had been going on since I was thirteen. Ray hadn’t seen me once since we were twelve.

No, wait, that’s not true. I saw him once last year, and at that was only because my father was out of town. He’d dropped me off in the middle of nowhere and told me to make myself scarce.  In truth I think that was the one good thing he’d ever done for me. Whatever he’d had planned for that night, he clearly didn’t want me to be a part of it.

So, I made it to Ray’s place for the night. I slept on his couch. I suppose I should have told him then, but I didn’t. I just never told him, and really, how do you tell your best friend something like this?

I felt so dirty and disgusting. I was a whore, nothing but a whore. I sold myself for money. My father sold me for money. What kind of person was I?

Ray didn’t say anything. He just held me. I remembered he had a way with things like that.

He wasn’t in the room when the doctor came in to do what she needed to do, checking me over and explaining my options with a pregnancy like this, but he was there afterward. It wasn’t until I was sobbing so hard they thought it was a good idea to give me a sedative, but I don’t remember anything after I fell asleep.

**ooOoo**

Ray Kowalski sat by Pam’s bedside, wondering how he could have let it get this bad. He’d had a sinking feeling that something was going on when she turned up on his doorstep without warning the year before, but he’d been too shocked to ask after it. Now here she was, lying in a hospital bed, pregnant with a baby who’d been forced on her by whomever had beat her so badly she’d felt the need to run for well over two hours to get to him. Not that it was ever right to beat anyone, let alone a teenage girl, but this was just so much bigger than he could have imagined.

But he could barely take care of himself, how the hell was he going to help her? She had nothing with her, and she was still so scared. He’d have to ask his parents for help, there was no other option, but would they do it?

_None of that crap, you jackass_ , he chided himself. _She needs you, and you’re damn well going to do something._

It wasn’t long before he fell asleep in the chair beside her bed, and good thing too. He hated hospitals, always had, even before his grandpa (who he always called Dziadek) had ended up in one for months on end. Dziadek had come home, but it had been a very close call, and the smell of hospital antiseptic and food still made Ray gag.

And here he was, sitting beside Pam Coltrane while she lay in absolute agony.

He must not have slept for long, because he heard someone knock on the door.

“Hey Ray?”

He turned to see Coach standing there.

“Hey Coach.”

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Yeah, sure,” he very gently extracted his hand from Pam’s vice-like grip and followed Coach out into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

“Can I ask how you know her, and why she was running into the gym earlier today?”

Ray exhaled sharply, looking through the same window into Pam’s room.

“Her name’s Pam Coltrane, Coach,” he started. “I knew her way back when we were younger, then she moved and we lost touch till last year. Then she disappeared. Haven’t seen her since, except for today.”

He saw Coach nod.

“Why was she running?”

“Did you see the bruises on her face and arms? I think her dad’s been beating her.” That was the extent on what he could actually tell anyone, let alone Coach. He couldn’t say anything about the baby; that was not his story to tell.

Ray couldn’t help but notice Coach’s jaw tighten, his tongue rolling along his bottom teeth.

“Alright, we gotta get the police in here now.”

“Coach,” Ray stopped just short of grabbing Coach Taylor’s arm, and shook his head. “They gave her a sedative. She’s not talking anymore tonight.”

Coach’s jaw tightened again. To him, it was obvious that something terrible had happened to that girl, and Ray Kowalski, at the age of seventeen, was not the person to handle it alone, never mind responsibly. He would have to step in if Ray’s parents didn’t, figure something out as soon as possible.


	3. Broken Children, Shot in Black and White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guilt has set in, and Pam wakes up in the hospital to three very special people waiting for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All warnings apply throughout the story.
> 
> Extra special thank to ButterflyGhost for being a marvelous beta.

The next morning it seemed like I was going to be able to get out of the hospital. There was just a slight problem: they hadn’t been able to get a hold of my legal guardian, or my alternate emergency contact (who just happened to be my mom. I hadn’t seen her since I was eight. Go figure she wouldn’t show up now). And since I was seventeen and therefore still a minor, they couldn’t let me go without an adult signature.

But, at this point, I didn’t care. I attempted to sit up, but still felt so gross from the sedative that I coughed, grabbed a basin, and threw up. I didn’t even know there was anything in my stomach that _could_ have come back up. I was so exhausted that I didn’t even see Ray until he grabbed a cloth, went to the sink, and wet it, placing in on my forehead.

“Did you stay all night?” I asked as he sat back down and took my hand. “Uh… hand me some water? Gotta rinse my mouth out.”

“Sure,” he grabbed a bottle of water from the desk by the bed, unscrewed the cap, and held it to my lips. I took a gulp, swished it, and held it in my mouth, no doubt looking like a chipmunk who’d had a field day.

He brought the basin (now thoroughly washed out) under my chin.

“Spit,” he told me.

And I did, splashing him with droplets.

“Oh gross, Pam!” he laughed.

“You told me to spit!” I giggled.

“Yeah, I did, though I wonder if that medication’s got you a little bit high.”

“A sedative can’t do that, smart ass,” I smirked. “So, tell me,” I asked again, “did you stay all night?”

“Did you want me to go?”

“No…” I answered. “Thanks, for staying, you know?”

“Yeah…” he nodded. “Yeah, I know.” He dumped the basin out into the sink and pulled a chair up next to the bed. “Pam, why didn’t you tell me this was going on?”

“How could I have?”

“You could have called me. Hell, you could have written if you had to.”

“And said what? _“Hey Ray, I’m available, $30 bucks an hour, want in?”_ ” I nearly spat at him, though I knew I shouldn’t have been angry with him at all. He hadn’t done this to me; in fact he’d stayed with me all night even though I know how much he hates hospitals. “Oh…” I breathed, covering my eyes with my hand. “Ray, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. I’m just… I don’t even know.”

“It’s alright, we’ll keep you safe.”

“We?”

“Me and my parents,” he answered. “You remember them?”

“Yeah, I remember them,” I nodded. They were good people. His dad worked at a meatpacking plant, and his mom was a seamstress, I think, from what I could recall. It was good to know I wouldn’t be alone. My mom had left when I was eight. I got a card at Christmas and my birthday until I was about thirteen, but then it stopped. Wait, that’s not true. I think I got a letter from her just after she left, but she never did explain why she didn’t take me with her. What was so wrong with me that I didn’t deserve leaving that scumbag behind too?

Of course, I didn’t say any of this to Ray at all. The only thing I could ask was if he knew when I could leave, and would he please check with the nurse to make sure we had the right time?

He nodded, the look in his eyes enough to break my heart.

I don’t think I had ever seen such an expression before.

He came back a few minutes later with the nurse, but this time, his parents were with him too.

“Hi, Pam,” Barbara greeted me with a smile.

Oh wow, she still remembered me.

“Stanley tells me you need someone to sign you out. We can do that, if you need us to. But then where are you going?”

I caught Ray’s eye.

“She’s coming home with us,” he answered for me, choosing to ignore the fact that his mother still called him Stanley.

I saw Damien bite his lip and nod.

“Of course, sweetheart. I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Barbara agreed. “We’ll make up the guest room and get some food into you.”

He gripped my hand and smiled.

“Son,” Damien broke in. “Can we speak to you outside?”

Ray nodded and followed them out the door.

**ooOoo**

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Ray heard his father say. “She’s beat beyond all meaning, son. And we sure as hell can’t take care of her. How are we gonna pay the bill? We don’t have much money.”

“From what she’s told me, she’s got insurance. Not under her dad’s name, and I don’t know how she did that, but it’s a damn good thing. You saw her face, Dad, she’s got no one else.”

He looked from side to side. “Alright, what are we going to do? Whatever she’s running from, we can’t protect her all that well. You told anyone else about this?”

Ray exhaled sharply.

“Coach knows. She ran into the gym and fainted. He called the ambulance.”

Damien nodded. “We don’t have room for her either.”

“Yes we do, Damien,” Barbara  snapped, taking a deep breath. “Like I said, I’ll do up the guest room.”

“She could sleep in my room if she needs to,” Ray insisted. “We’ll probably need to use the guest room for her baby anyway.”

Barbara’s eyes went wide. “Baby?”

Oh damn! He hadn't meant to let that slip.

“Yeah, Mom,” Ray nodded, glaring at her and folding his arms across his chest. It wasn’t his kid, but he could just imagine them trying to press the issue. “She’s pregnant. It’s absolutely not her fault.”

“I never said it was, Stanley.”

Ugh, he hated being called Stanley. He bit down on his tongue, waiting for that unspoken ‘but’ comment. “Okay,” he sighed, letting out a big breath. “But she doesn’t know what to do.”

“Well now there’s no question about it,” Barbara insisted. “She’s coming home with us, Damien.”

All in all, Damien knew there was no point arguing with his wife, especially where their son and his friends were concerned. “Think you can get Coach to help?”

“And stick his neck out for a girl he doesn’t know? No one knows who she is, Dad. No one but us, and she’s been through hell. We’ve got to help her.”

“We can’t keep her locked away in the house. That’s no good for anyone.” Damien put his hands on his son’s shoulders. “You’ve got to ask Coach if he can get her into the school. If she’s at school, whoever she’s running from would have to get through high water to touch her.”

Ray exhaled again, dragged a hand through his hair. He’d been running on adrenaline since she first burst through the gym door and collapsed on the floor. It had been nearly 12 hours since then (not that he was counting). Frankly, he wanted nothing more than to go home and go to bed.

“Alright, I’ll talk to him tomorrow. Can we just… just sign her out and get her to ours?”

“Yeah…”

Sighing, Ray ran his hand through his hair again and went back into the hospital room to sit with Pam for a while.

**ooOoo**

I don’t really remember how I got to Ray’s from the hospital; I was still pretty woozy from the sedative. But I do remember waking up on his couch under a blanket and with a pillow under my head. They must have tucked me in.

I sat up and looked out the window, saw that it was dark. I stumbled into the kitchen and found the clock on the microwave. 3AM. What the hell was I doing awake at 3AM? God damn sedative, messing with my body’s internal clock. I didn’t want to go in and bother Ray, so I just sat on the couch and watched the sun come up. It was eerily quiet for the longest time that morning. Although it felt kind of nice, really, to just sit and not have to worry about much, even if it was just for a little while.

When Barbara came out to the kitchen around six, she set the kettle on the stove and started it boiling for tea and coffee.

“Pam, what are you doing up?”

“Oh, good morning Mrs. Kowalski, I hope I didn’t wake you,” I yawned in response.

“Oh no, I’m usually up around now every day,” she answered. “Sewing machine needing to be used as often as possible, early bird and all that,” Barbara brushed her hair out of her face. I could see who Ray had inherited that particular habit. “And please, none of that, honey. Mrs. Kowalski is my mother-in-law.” She rummaged through the fridge and set milk and sugar on the counter. “You can call me Barbara, or Mom if you want.”

“Barbara…” I tried the name out on my tongue, getting off the couch and joining her in the kitchen.

“Much better, dear,” she took the kettle off the boil and poured it into the teapot. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Sore,” I admitted. “And really confused.”

Barbara nodded and brought me a cup of tea, milk added. How in the world did she know how I took my tea?

“I suppose Ray told you I’m pregnant?” I asked. Might as well get it over with. If I was going to stay with them, I’d tell them as much as they needed to know. But I knew they had to be careful. If I said something too obvious, they’d have no choice but to go to the police, and that was the last thing I wanted.

“Yes he did, sweetheart,” Barbara answered. “He also said that you’re not sure what you want to do about it.”

“I can’t care for a baby, not on my own,” I took a sip of tea. “And I don’t want to be known as the girl who had another abortion. I’ve already had three.”

I expected Barbara to gasp and slide her chair across to the other side of the room. Instead, the woman just sat there, listening.

“Then I suppose there’s only two options,” Barbara answered. “Go through with the pregnancy and place the baby for adoption, or raise the baby with our help.”

I felt my eyes widen in shock.

“Oh Barbara, I…”

“Nothing needs to be decided at this very moment,” she insisted, patting my hand. “From what I understand, you’re not very far along, you still have time to think about it.”

I pushed my tea mug away and hugged her.

“I can’t thank you enough for this,” I sobbed into her shoulder.

“Oh don’t you worry,” she whispered in my ear. “You’re always welcome here, Pam. I hope you know that.”

When I let go, she guided me back over to the couch and tucked me back in under the blanket.

“I’ll sort the guest room out later today and you can sleep in there,” she told me. “Get some rest, honey. It’s Saturday, and too early for anyone to be up.”

“Thank you Barbara,” I gripped her hand in thanks and turned over, settling in for what I hoped was a few more hours sleep.

It must have been about 11 in the morning by the time Ray stumbled out of his room. He was shirtless, rubbing his hair out of his face, mumbling about needing a coffee. Lucky for him, Barbara had made a pot of it before tucking me back in. I sat up and just watched him… watched the way he moved around the kitchen and smiled to myself.

I think it took him about five or ten minutes to recognize that I was still there, and sitting on the couch wrapped in a blanket.

“Oh, morning Pam.”

“Morning,” I smirked. “You’re quite the sight.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, sipping at his coffee. “Dad wants me to get you over to Coach’s. Wants to see if he can get you into school.”

“Are you kidding?”

“No,” he answered. “He figures that whatever you’re running from, if you’re in school they can’t touch you.”

“Well then what happens after school? You can’t protect me all the time. And there’s no guarantee they wouldn’t be able to get to me. That’s a fool’s gamble if I ever saw it.”

He considered this for a second. “Can we at least try it? Coach might be able to help.”

“But if we do that I’ll have to tell him everything. I’m not ready for that, Ray. I’m really not. All everyone is ever going to see is a whore who can’t keep her legs closed. Three abortions. I’ve had three abortions, and now I’m pregnant again. If that doesn’t scream slut I don’t know what does. I’m horrible. I’m a horrible person, and I just…” I put my head in my hands, knowing I wasn’t making any sense.

“Hey, hey,” I heard him put down his mug and come to sit down beside me. “Don’t worry. Coach does not judge. Plus his wife’s a guidance counselor.”

“How’s that supposed to help?”

“It will.” It didn’t sound like he had much faith in his own conviction. “Take a shower, and we’ll go on over to Coach’s.”

“But shouldn’t we wait until tomorrow?”

“The longer we put it off, the harder it’s gonna be. Come on. You can do it.”

Good God, he made it sound like I was having a hard time giving birth. Without saying another word, I got up and went to the bathroom. It didn’t take long before I came out wrapped in a towel.

I swear Ray’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

“Hey Cowboy, my eyes are up here,” I fought to keep myself from laughing.

“Sorry,” he flushed as I turned back toward the bedroom. I didn’t have any clean clothes, but there was nothing wrong with borrowing Ray’s. Besides, they were comfy. “Hey, you want something to eat?” He called to me.

“Whatever you’re eating is good.” I shouted back, rummaging through his room for something to wear. Ah ha, found it! I pulled the two sizes too big for me shirt over my head and quickly found a pair of almost clean sweatpants. It was big, but it would have to do.

I re-emerged to find him pouring a glass of milk.

“Here, catch,” he warned as he threw a little silver package in my direction. I caught it with one hand and looked at it.

“Pop-tarts?”

He cocked his eyebrows at me as he took a swig of milk. “What, you don’t like Pop-tarts?”

“Are you kidding?” I ripped open the package with my teeth and pulled the sweet treat out of its wrapping with one hand. “Oooh, raspberry, my favourite!” I bit into it, smiling devilishly at the young man who made my heart melt.

“Be careful, Coltrane, that look on your face might get you into a lot of trouble some day.”

“Oh really, Kowalski?” I mocked between bites. “Perhaps if you’re good today, I’ll be extra gentle with you later. Sounds fair?”

We stared at each other with grins on our faces for what seemed like minutes, then dissolved into peals of laughter.

“Come on you monkey. We should head over to Coach’s.”

My face dropped. Great, just when I’m feeling better, he has to throw that into the conversation and make me miserable.

“Fine…” I mumbled, hanging my head slightly. “But I wanna drive.”

“Drive? You’re driving me crazy, come on,” he put the glasses in the sink and grabbed his keys.

“Oh, if I’m driving you crazy, does that mean you’re going to start foaming at the mouth?”

“Not yet, although it’s been known to happen.”

“Really? Are there pictures?”

“Not of me foaming at the mouth, no.”

“Oh, I see,” I nodded matter-of-factly. “Perhaps your favourite appendage? Are there pictures of that?”

“Sure, here…” he reached into his pocket and flipped me off.

“Careful there, Kowalski. Such a vulgar gesture could get you into a lot of trouble someday,” I parroted his words.

We got into the car making fun of each other, poking and prodding each other in the ribs, and attempting to wrestle each other onto the grass before getting anywhere close to our destination.

Once we’d settled down and were on our way to wherever this “Coach” lived, I realized something:

That second day in Chicago was the first day I had laughed in a very long time.


	4. School, Work, and then Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the next steps in Pam settling into her new life are discussed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, all warnings apply throughout the entire story. 
> 
> Thank you to ButterflyGhost for being a marvelous beta!

As happy as I felt whenever I was with Ray, I loathed the fact that I was going to have to explain what had happened to me in order to get into Rutherford High. I wasn’t ready to talk about it, I really wasn’t. And especially not to a woman I had absolutely no connection to, and no reason to trust.

But that’s not true. Ray said that she was his Coach’s wife, and that he would trust Coach with any problem he had, although he didn’t necessarily go to Coach for absolutely _everything_. He meant that, if his situation were as dire as mine, he would definitely count Coach and his wife as the people to go to first.

I felt sick.

How was I to know what they would think of me?

I gripped Ray’s hand as he knocked on the door.

An older woman with dark hair answered, holding a baby on her hip and looking from Ray to me and back again.

“Well this is a surprise.”

“Hi Mrs. Taylor,” he managed, gulping, “I, uh, I don’t mean to interrupt but… my friend Pam, she, uh… she needs some help.”

She looked at me and must have thought I was something Ray had recently dug up. “Um… sure… come on in.” She moved out of the way and allowed both Ray and I into her home. It was beautiful, and really felt like there was love in the air. I know that doesn’t make much sense but to me it did.

She led us into the kitchen and gestured for us to sit down. “Let me just get Miss Katelyn settled and then we’ll talk,” she gave me a tentative smile as she bent down and strapped the baby into the little play seat. I think it was called a bouncer, where she could jump and play and not get into mischief. “Okay, now, can I get you something to drink?”

I coughed. “Could I just have some water, please?”

Isn’t it sad that I wasn’t comfortable asking for more than water whenever I met someone? In truth, it was easy to ask for water. It was a basic human right, no one could refuse you water.

She brought me a glass and set it down on the table in front of me.

“So, Pam, what happened?”

“I…” I choked out. “I know you’re the guidance counselor at Rutherford, and…” I felt Ray grip my hand underneath the table. “I was wondering if you could help me get into school.”

I was sure she could see there was something else going on. I didn’t even look up at her. How could I possibly explain what had happened? How could I explain to this woman whom I’d said little more than a sentence and a half to what my father had been doing to me? Surely she didn’t need to hear it, and her baby Katelyn didn’t need to hear it either. I didn’t think I’d even told Ray all of it.

“Well, I’m sure I can do something if you give me the information I need,” she answered after an extremely uncomfortable silence. “Do you have any transcripts from your other school?”

“No ma’am,” I mumbled. “I dropped out a long time ago.”

“Dropped out? Why did you drop out?”

“I failed my classes, so my father pulled me out, and I just never went back.”

Bullshit. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, _bullshit_.

“And when did this happen?” I was sure she didn’t believe me, but she didn’t push me for more answers. Perhaps I could get away with it if I was persuasive enough.

“After ninth grade…” I answered. That part was true, at least. I had had good grades that year, but that summer was when the abuse had become much worse. At first he had kept it to where I could easily cover it up, but then it escalated. For example, the first time he sold me, it was very close to the end of July, and his friend had come into my room. I remember it was quick, just a few quick thrusts and a lot of pain. Once he left I curled into a ball on my bed and cried. I didn’t even notice the pool of blood on my sheets until the next morning.

Later I found out my dad’s friend had paid double to get my virginity.

But hello! Focus! Right, after ninth grade the abuse escalated, and I’d dealt with it by getting tattooed. A lot. I currently had five all over my body. But that wasn’t what Mrs. Taylor wanted to know. And that wasn’t what I told her. We discussed quite a bit, and I think the verdict was that she would meet with the school administrators and see about getting me registered at Rutherford High.

Ray and I left the Taylor residence still confused as to whether or not I was actually going to be starting at Rutherford at all. I did miss school and being in school itself. It had always been important to me. I didn’t want to be seen as the stereotypical high school dropout who always pushed off going back and then never did. I wanted to go back, and I was hoping Leslie Taylor, guidance counselor could make it happen.

I spent the majority of the weekend in Ray’s bed, waiting for any sort of result.

Oh my God, I just realized how bad that sounded. Hey come on! Get your mind out of the gutter! I know Ray’s reputation as being head over heels in love with someone who wasn’t me, and, in all honesty, the whole reason I slept in his bed was for the security of having someone hold me in their arms. I needed to have that light physical contact to know that I was safe; that was all I wanted from him.

The call didn’t come till late Sunday night, when Mrs. Taylor called and said I could start on following Monday, since one day was really not enough time to schedule classes and get school supplies. Of course, I would have to meet with her each day to make sure I would be able to get everything together, but I didn’t mind waiting. Besides, I still needed a bit of time to figure out how I wanted to approach things. I did, however, agree to come in with Ray to school and go straight to the office to talk with her.

I went to school the next day with Ray after poking and prodding him awake. I knew he didn’t really care about school as much as I did, but this was important to me. I needed him there, even if he did just go to one class, I knew he’d be there.

He parked the car and came in with me to the guidance office. Mrs. Taylor met us there with a slight smile on her face, though I had no idea what she was smiling for. Was this really something to celebrate?

Well yes, in a way, it was. It was a very big thing for me. I was going back to school! And I was excited! School was so important to me. I wanted to graduate and go to college, to show people that yes, I could do it.  I wanted to show them that I, Pam Coltrane, was capable of graduating high school and going to college.

I related all this to Mrs. Taylor who told me that that was the exact attitude to have. And based on my grades and GPA from ninth grade (See? I told you she didn't believe me when I said I'd failed everything), I would definitely be able to do it, except for the fact that I would have to repeat my sophomore year. Ah well, considering everything that had been going on, what was one more year? It was only a year behind the class I was supposed to be in. That’s okay.

“Alright then, Pam. Looks like you’re all set for next week. We’ll get you a locker and everything else set up today, and I’ll give you a tour.”

I smiled, listening intently as she and I explored the school together. It was pretty big, and nowhere near big enough for all the students they had, but somehow they made it work. It didn’t matter though. If I had to share a locker I didn’t care, all I cared about was the fact that I’d be back in school.

I ran into Ray who had been coming back from the school gym, but we said nothing to each other. We didn’t need to. I wasn’t going to be back at school for at least another week, and I’d see him at home soon anyway.

Which led me to another thing to think about. Ray knew as well as I did that, as much as Barbara insisted it was alright for me to stay with them, I didn’t want to be a burden or a leech. If I was going to stay with them, I would have to bring in some sort of income. The only job I knew was one that I was ashamed of. I knew that I could use my body, but I didn’t want to do that anymore. If I were to go to bed with anyone, I wanted it to be on my own terms, especially in my current state.

Anyway, I’m digressing again. I knew Ray would be home later, since he had sparring practice every day after school. Which I found remarkable in itself. He was hated school most days, and he only tolerated it because his dad worked so hard to make sure Ray would get into college. Plus, he knew that if he didn’t go to class, Coach would tell him not to bothering showing up for practice, and Ray liked boxing too much to give that up.

Oh well, I didn’t want to worry about that now. Mrs. Taylor and I had finished the tour of the school, and it was magnificent. I wandered around the neighbourhood for a while afterward, going into every business within walking distance of both the school and the house, (excluding the Music Academy, which I understood to be a strip club, and I wanted no part of _that_ , thank you very much), and asked what I needed in order to apply for a job. They handed me applications, told me I needed a resume and to drop the applications back off and then they would call me if they were interested.

I knew that once I got some decent clothes instead of borrowing Ray’s, and quite feasibly, a haircut, I would fill out these applications and hopefully be able to help with the mortgage and other bills, like food and water.

I was positively giddy when I came in the door at around six. There was Ray, reliable as ever, sitting on the couch and staring at the TV. I jumped through the front door and let out a squeal of delight.

“Someone’s happy,” Ray’s brow shot upward for a moment as he pulled on his water bottle again.

“This is so amazing, Ray!” I dropped my bag and rushed over to the couch, bouncing onto the seat next to him. “Mrs. Taylor showed me around the school and assigned me a locker and I start again next Monday and I went around to see what kind of job I could get and I’m just… oh this is great! It’s going to be fantastic!”

He was smiling at me, caught up in the excitement of the moment.

And I kissed him.


	5. Not All Ideas are Bad Ideas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray, Barbara, and Damian Kowalski are all she has, and Pam has never been happier, more grateful, or more confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra special thanks to ButterflyGhost for the beta!
> 
> I'd also like to thank everyone who is reading this. Please don't be shy in telling me what you think. Please feel free to comment, the door is always open.

It wasn’t until I pulled away from him that I realized what I’d done. Good God, I’d just kissed Ray Kowalski. Ray Kowalski; my best friend Ray Kowalski. It was something that my brain was refusing to acknowledge. Ray was my friend, friend equaled good. Kissing equaled good, but kissing my friend equaled bad. It just didn’t register. Why the hell had I done that?

“Oh…” I managed through the confusion in my brain. “That.. that was…” I babbled. “I’m sorry, Ray, I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Hey, hey,” he grabbed my hand and stopped me from going anywhere. “Don’t worry about it, Pam. If kissing me is the only thing that happens because you’re excited, that’s the least of anyone’s problems.”

I looked at him sideways. Well, it didn’t make complete sense, but it wasn’t so horribly out there that I couldn’t understand it at all. Maybe he was right. Kissing him wasn’t the brightest of ideas, but it wasn’t going to destroy anyone’s life if it happened.

“Oh…” I said again through muddled thoughts. Oh God, he was right in front of me! I mean, I was used to this, Ray and I were always in close contact. I slept in his bed for God’s sake! What was it about today in particular that something all of a sudden changed?

I breathed deeply to try and get myself under control, and I caught a whiff of _him_. He never wore any sort of cologne, and if he wasn’t smelly from sparring, he had this sort of musk. I couldn’t even make out what it was. It didn’t have a name; the only word I could use to describe it was him.

Time seemed to be going in slow motion. His hands were on my shoulder and moving down my arms, giving me goose bumps. It was almost like I couldn’t control what was happening next. He kissed me this time, making me jump. And then my insides melted.

I brought my hands up and pushed against him, breaking us up. “No. This is wrong.” I insisted. “Wrong. Wrong on so many levels. Not right.”

“What is it, Pam?” he asked.

“Can’t kiss you,” I muttered. “No, no, no. Wrong. Very wrong.” I slumped to the floor and put my head in my hands.

I felt him crouch down in front of me and move my heads away with some effort. “Pam, what’s up?”

I breathed in deeply, urging myself not to cry. “That was wrong, Ray. You’re my best friend, I can’t kiss you.”

“There’s nothing wrong with kissing,” he insisted, taking a gentle hold of my wrist and holding my hand in his. I saw him look down and trace the ink I had there.

That simply statement did more for me than anything else he could have said. He was right, there really was nothing wrong with kissing, provided it was consensual, and no one was forcing it at all. Nope, fine, I’d kiss him any time he liked if he asked me nicely.

No, bad! Bad Pam! No kissing Ray. Not allowed to kiss Ray.

“What’s this?” He traced the tiny heart with a name in it with his calloused index finger, breaking my concentration.

“It’s a tattoo, genius. I’m sure you’ve seen a tattoo before.”

“Well yeah, but I didn’t expect you to have one.” He studied the artwork more closely. “Is that a name?” He kissed my wrist. “Hmm… can’t quite make it out. Whose name is that?”

I could tell by the sound of his voice that he was joking and baiting me. It wasn’t a name in that heart at all; it was my first initial. Yes, it seemed very simple, but it was a reminder to myself. Even with all the crap I’d been putting up with, it was a reminder that I could love myself.

“It’s not a name,” I smiled, holding back a giggle. “It’s my first initial.”

“Really? That’s an P?”

“Mmm hmm,” I answered. “You gonna let go of my hand now?”

“Do you have any more?” he countered.

It stopped me dead in my tracks. “What?”

“Tattoos. Do you have more than the one tattoo?”

I smirked. No way was he getting it out of me that easily. Yes, I did have more than the one tattoo, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. If he wanted to know, he would have to find out for himself.

And I told him so.

I don’t know what was making me act like this, why I was suddenly so bold. Weren’t most victims (ugh, I hate that word. I don’t see myself as a victim at all. Why did it have to be such an ugly word?) either incredibly shy and withdrawn or indiscriminate in terms of bedding people? Of course I understand that that doesn’t apply to everybody, and I was hoping it didn’t apply to me.

He smirked back at me.

“Is that a challenge?” he got on his knees and shuffled toward me, closing the already small gap between us.

“If you want to think of it that way…” I shuffled over to the side and stood up without allowing him any more contact. “But I’ll issue that challenge another time. Not tonight.”

I stood up and waited for him to do the same. Once he did, I stepped closer and stuck a hand between us, reaching down.

“Besides,” I cupped the area between his legs and gently squeezed once, causing his mouth to fall open and his eyes to go wide in shock. “There’s something else going on right now,” I leaned in and nipped his bottom lip. “And I think you should go take care of it.”

I let go and went out the door before he could get a word in edgewise.

**ooOoo**

We were very careful not to let his parents see that anything had happened between us when we sat down to dinner. Barbara had emerged from her sewing room a few minutes after I had left Ray in the living room, and insisted that we both wash up, as dinner was going to be ready soon.

Sitting down to potato soup and fresh bread, I couldn’t take more than a few bites before the nausea kicked in.

“Oh my goodness,” I managed, putting a hand over my mouth. “Excuse me…” I raced to the bathroom and made it to the toilet before everything came up.

The shock of it was enough to make me cry. And crying and puking was never a good combination. If anything, the more I cried, the more I was sick, and that just made things worse.

I heard a knock at the door and moaned.

“Pam?”

It was Barbara.

“I’m so sorry, Barbara,” I sobbed, reaching over and flushing the toilet. “I didn’t mean to…”

“Sweetheart, there’s no need to apologize,” she insisted, getting down on her knees and rubbing slow circles on my back. “With all the excitement today, I think it was a little too much…” she reached over to the sink and wet a washcloth with one hand and gave it to me. “Wipe your mouth, honey. And then we’ll get you into bed”

“I feel terrible,” I admitted, doing as she asked.

“I know, honey. Pregnancy will do that to you,” Barbara offered me a hand and helped me up. “Do you want to sleep in Ray’s room or yours?”

My eyes bugged out.

“Don’t look so surprised, Pam. I know you like having someone to hold you while you sleep. I trust you two to behave yourselves.”

I almost couldn’t believe her. Unless she'd looked in on me while I'd been sleeping on the couch, how did she know I liked having someone hold me? Although I _had_ woken up with a wet pillow more than once, perhaps she'd heard me crying?

“Just keep the door open at all times,” she insisted, helping me to Ray's bedroom. “I don’t believe anything would happen, but that’s one of Damian’s rules,” Barbara smiled. “And know this, Pam, if Stanley puts one hand on you without your permission, don’t think I’m above skinning him alive.”

“There’s no need to worry about that,” I promised, groaning as she lowered me onto Ray’s bed. “If anything, he’s too polite to try anything.”

“Good,” she pulled the blanket up over me and kissed my forehead. “Now, get some rest. The baby needs everything you can give, and that includes taking care of yourself. I’ll send Stanley in soon.”

I closed my eyes, sinking into the bed.

It seemed like I’d only been asleep for a few minutes when Ray came in with a plate of dry toast and a glass of water.

“Hey Pam,” he whispered, placing the toast and water on the nightstand. “Mind if I join you?”

I smiled, reached out a hand and pulled him toward me. He very carefully stood on the bed and stepped over me, tucking himself in by the wall.

Once we’d settled underneath the blanket, he pulled me to him and held me. That’s all.

I closed my eyes, content with just having his arms wrapped around me. The morning would come too soon, I knew, and within a week I’d be back at school.

My start date being so close suddenly reminded me that I had no clothes or school supplies, and I didn’t want to put more strain on Barbara by asking her to make me any. Perhaps, if I asked her nicely, she’d take me shopping?

But that would put a strain on their already stretched budget, and that wasn’t fair to them. I hadn’t asked them to take me in, but they’d done so because they didn’t want to abandon me. I had all the applications to fill out, but I also needed a haircut, and, if I wanted to look nice and get a job, new clothes were definitely needed.

“Barbara?” I asked the next morning while we sat down to breakfast. Ray’s hair was in his face again as he hunched over his cereal bowl, chewing quietly as I picked up a piece of toast and stared at my glass of orange juice. It was suddenly the most interesting glass of juice I’d ever seen in my life. “Do you think we could go shopping for material?”

“Material?” she answered as Damian got up and put his dishes in the sink and kissed Barbara goodbye.

“I don’t have any clothes, aside from that t-shirt and shorts I had when I first went to the hospital,” I took a small sip of orange juice. “And I can’t keep borrowing Ray’s, but I don’t want to put an unnecessary strain on you or Mr. Kowalski…”

“Pam, you call me Damien, Mr. Kowalski is my father,” he interrupted, zipping up his coat and opening the front door. “Have a good day, everyone!”

“Bye Dad,” Ray dragged a hand through his hair and took another bite of cereal.

“What I mean is, if we could get some material, and you show me how to use the sewing machine, I could make my own clothes, couldn’t I? That’s less expensive.”

“Oh Pam,” Barbara sat down beside me in the empty chair and took my hand. “That’s not something you should be worrying about,” she brushed my hair out of my face. “Your task right now is to concentrate on getting ready for school and making sure the baby is healthy.”

“But I want to help, Barbara,” I insisted. “I went to get all sorts of job applications and they told me they needed my resume and things like that, and if I get an interview, I’ll need to look like I want the job.”

“Of course, sweetheart, I never meant to say otherwise,” she nodded and looked over at her son, who was on his second cup of coffee. “Stanley, you should be getting dressed right about now. Don’t you have school this morning?”

“I’ll get there on time, Mom,” he answered, probably inwardly cringing at the fact that she still called him Stanley. “Not quite awake yet.”

“Best get a move on,” she half-heartedly scolded. “I’m taking Pam to look for materials and school supplies, and we can’t do that while you’re still in the house.”

I laughed. I’d never be able to repay them for their kindness, but I figured getting a job and learning how to make my own clothes was a start.


	6. High School Never Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pam starts back at school, and no matter how old you are, being the new kid is a terrible thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the absolutely wonderful ButterflyGhost for the beta.
> 
> Also, warning for happy endings in a car.

Starting school again was never going to be easy, and I knew that from the beginning. It had been almost four years since I’d stepped foot in a school, and sitting in a classroom felt almost stifling. It was only the first week back, though, and there was always going to be an adjustment period. After all, no matter what anyone says, no one likes the new kid.

As I sat in the lunchroom with Ray, new clothes clumsily stitched by me and corrected by Barbara immediately after, I felt terribly out of place. Even while just sitting down at the table, I felt one of the senior students walk up to me and lean down beside me, elbows on the table.

I turned my head slowly and glared at him. Putting my sandwich down, I put my elbow on the table and leaned my head on my hand.

“Can I help you?”

“Haven’t I seen you before, gorgeous?”

Ugh, one of these guys. The ones who thought it was acceptable to say whatever they wanted to the new kid in order to assert dominance. Actually, they sounded like a dog whose control over the pack was being usurped. I stole a glance at Ray, who had stopped chewing and was eyeing this guy with contempt, his shoulders squaring, as though he was getting ready to jump over the table at a moment’s notice in order to defend my honour.  

“I don’t think so,” I turned my back on the jerk.

“Sure I have, isn’t this you?” the kid, who I had just at that moment decided would be named Douchebag McAsshat, pushed a picture toward me.

Exasperated, I took it from him and looked.

Jesus Christ on a plate, it was me. It was a photo of me topless, looking over my shoulder with a teddy bear covering my breasts, my hair in pigtails.

I felt sick. I knew exactly where that was from, and suddenly it took all I could not to get up and punch Douchebag right in the jaw. It was from a photo shoot my father had forced me to do when I was 15, advertising my services for $30 an hour, or to the highest bidder.

I turned the photo over and smacked the table in disgust. “I suggest you clear out. Now.”

“Come on, lovely, just a kiss?” he reached behind me and snapped my bra.

Ray jumped up and stood in front of me. “Did you just do what I think you did? Did you just touch her?”

His concern for me made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I’d never seen him so angry, and if I didn’t stop him, there would soon be blood on the floor.

“What are you, her boyfriend?”

Ray clenched his jaw.

“Her pimp, then?”

Ray flinched, his hands curled into fists.

“I didn’t hear a no,” Douchebag continued, poking Ray in the chest. “Since that’s not the case, sweetheart, maybe loverboy here might give me a discount?”

The entire cafeteria had gone quiet. Ray was fuming. He reached forward and grabbed the guy’s shirt, ready to throw a punch.

“Okay, okay,” I stepped between them and pried Ray’s hand away from Douchebag. “You know, you’re a funny guy,” I chuckled, my voice laced with more sarcasm than you could shake a stick at. “So very funny,” I reached over to the table, keeping my eyes on him. The idiot was smirking a little, like he thought I was going to drop my panties right there in the cafeteria. Pfft.  “So funny that I forgot to laugh.”

The air was punctured with the loudest sound I’d ever heard as I cracked an empty lunch tray across Douchebag’s face.

He hit the floor with a resounding THUD that made the entire cafeteria go quiet.

“You try anything like that again, and I will come back here with a rusty spoon, and have your dick in a jar faster than you can scream for your mommy,” I hissed as I put the lunch tray back on the table and grabbed Ray’s hand. “Let’s go, Ray.”

We tore out of the cafeteria like bats out of hell and outside around the back of the school.

And, leaning against him, I felt my resolve crumble.     

“Take me home,” I sobbed into his shirt. “Please take me home, Ray?”

“Okay,” he whispered into my hair. “Okay, Pam, we’ll go home…”

We were almost to his car when Mrs. Taylor came rushing out of the school.

“Pam Coltrane!” she shouted across the parking lot.

Oh God, I was still so angry I was shaking. I was torn between jumping into Ray’s car and driving off or walking back into the school to get it all over with. If she already knew about the photograph, I’d have to explain everything. And if I did that, she’d go straight to the police.

I didn’t even need to think about it. I grabbed Ray’s hand and bolted for the car. We tore out of the parking lot and toward the house.

But we didn’t end up going home. We were both so rattled that we ended up by the lake, staring at the freights going in and out of the harbour. Luckily, there was no one else around. Our fingers entwined, I could still feel myself shaking as he shut off the engine and pulled me to him. He waited until I stopped shaking to say anything, and thank God he did. Once my breathing was under control, I sat up and turned away, burying my face in my hands.

“Pam, what is it?” he asked, reaching out to touch my shoulder.

“Don’t touch me right now, please,” I managed between my fingers. “I don’t deserve to be touched.”

“What?”

“I’m…” I gulped, trying not to cry. “I can’t believe I did that. My first week back at school, and I just fucked it up completely. I’ll be expelled, I know it.”

“Hey…” he held out his hand, letting me come to him if I wanted. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Pam. He humiliated you with that photo, and then snapped your bra. You did what any reasonable person would have done.”

“This photo…” I pulled it out of my pocket and made myself stare at it. I’d had a dead look in my eyes. “This photo represents all the things I hate about myself. Which is everything.”

I saw Ray scramble to say something, but words had failed him.

“This is disgusting, Ray,” my hands trembled as I held it out to him. “This is child pornography, and I was part of it!” I felt a tear slip down my cheek. “You must really hate me.”

He took my chin in his hand and made me look at him. “I could never hate you, Pam Coltrane,” he insisted, taking the photo from me with his free hand. Pulling away, he held it up and tore it in half, again and again until it was nothing but small bits of confetti. “These little bits are going into the lake…” he got out of the car, raced to the end of the wharf, and dropped the remains of the photo into the water. Turning back, he returned to the car and got back in the driver’s seat.

Once back in the car, he slammed the door shut and gripped the steering wheel. I couldn’t help but think that perhaps he was angry with me for keeping the whole thing a secret. He was my best friend, and if you can’t trust your best friend, even with a secret this bad, then you have no hope.

Ray stared out the window as though the freights bringing in their cargo were the most brilliant thing he’d ever seen. I’d known him for years, and yet I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

And I couldn’t ask him, either. I’d made such a mess of everything that even saying his name at that point would be too intrusive. His eyes were shiny, as though he were biting back on his rage. He’d be completely within his rights to blame me for fucking things up, but when I’d confessed that my father had made me do that photo shoot, it certainly didn’t _sound_ like he blamed me for how the day had turned out...

Oh fuck it. I had to at least try to apologize.

“Ray…” I started.  

Turning as though he’d only just remembered I was sitting in the car with him,  he leaned over and kissed me.

I was just as surprised as he was, but I couldn’t bring myself to pull away. His lips were soft, gentle, pliant over mine. For a moment I panicked, then put a hand on his stomach and trailed my fingers down, pulling on his belt and freeing it from the loops on his jeans.

He broke away when my hand strayed to his zipper.

“Pam, I’ve never…” he babbled, placing his hand over mine. His eyes were  alarmed, even though his pupils were blown wide.

Oh…

“That’s okay, Ray, you don’t have to be embarrassed,” I brought my hand up and stroked his cheek. “But you need to tell me right now if you don’t want this,” I pushed myself back over to the passenger side. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

“No, I… I want to,” he insisted. “Touch me, Pam, please?”

 I smiled, and lowered his zipper. Undoing the button on his jeans, I pulled them down just enough to free him.

Looking up, I saw his eyes had gone dark, but he was still coherent enough to nod. Reaching for him, it didn’t take very long before he was moaning, his head tilted back against the window.

I pumped him lightly, just enough that he lasted longer than most people on the receiving end of their first hand job would. And when he did come with a strangled cry, it was just about the most beautiful thing I’d had the privilege to witness.

His breathing heavy, I let go and held up my hand, showing him what he’d accomplished. He moaned as I found a towel on the back seat and cleansed us both, but not before I saw him leaning forward.

He wanted to kiss me, and, once again, I happily obliged.

Ray was still boneless as I pulled him on top of me and let him rest his head on my chest, careful to avoid having him lie on my stomach. I ran my hand through the back of his hair, whispering how proud I was of him. No matter how well versed in sex you are or who you’re with, experiencing your first orgasm with another person is overwhelming, and Ray was handling it brilliantly; far better than I had anyway.

When he finally calmed down and got cleaned up, the adrenaline rush was gone, we were both feeling better, and the entire car smelled like sex.

We drove home in silence, my hand on his thigh.


	7. Caught Between a Rock and a Hard Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When home visits are not welcomed or encouraged, and people stick their noses into things that are not their business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra special thanks to ButterflyGhost for her magnificent beta
> 
> Warning for more details about Pam's past.

We got in the door to see Barbara and Damian sitting in the living room with none other than Mrs. Taylor, guidance counselor.

“Oh jeez,” I dropped my head into my hand and looked away. Why the hell would she have come to the house? Granted, that’s how I’d first met her, by showing up on her doorstep, but that was beside the point. What had happened in the cafeteria had not happened when I first met her, and now here she was, probably to tell me I’d been expelled.

“Are you alright, Pam?” she asked, not bothering with preamble.

“Fine, thank you,” I went completely stiff, determined not to give anything away.

“Good,” she put her water glass down on a coaster and leaned back against the couch, crossing her legs in front of her. “Could I speak with you alone? If you don’t mind.”

“I do mind, I mind very much,” I answered immediately, gripping Ray’s hand. “I’ll talk with you, Mrs. Taylor, if Ray can sit with us.”

Realizing there was no way I was going to be in the same room alone with her, she nodded. Barbara cleared her throat.

“Well Damien,” she said. “I need to go pick up that basket of mending from Mrs. James down the street. And you have some things you need to do to that car you and Stanley are always working on, don’t you?” she stood briskly, smiling as though she hadn’t just been banished from her own house. Damien followed with a little less grace.

There was a moment’s silence when the front door shut. The house now empty except for the three of us, Ray and I sat in the chairs across from the couch and stared at Mrs. Taylor.

“So I suppose you know why I’m here,” she started, as though I were a child.

“I do indeed,” I answered, leaning forward, refusing to give her the upper hand. “I’m not going to apologize to him, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“You hit another student in the face with a lunch tray, Pam,” she sounded almost scandalized. “At the very least, that calls for a suspension.”

“Are you going to suspend him too?” I countered.

“We already have, and we’re considering expulsion” Mrs. Taylor nodded. “Jason came to us to report you, and thought it was appropriate to show us what he had in his possession,” she opened the file lying on the couch beside her and produced a photograph.

“More than one…” I fought to keep myself from throwing up. “The bastard had more than one copy…” I dropped it and held my head in my hands. “Jesus Christ Almighty, how did he get his hands on it in the first place?”

“You know what this is?”

“Yes, I know what this is,” I grit my teeth. “And it’s fucking disgusting,” I turned my head away to hide my tears. “My skin is crawling right now, Mrs. Taylor, please take it away from me.”

She did, putting it back in her folder. At least, that’s what I assumed she was doing, as I wasn’t looking at her.

“This is you, isn’t it?” Mrs. Taylor asked, not unkindly.

I nodded, unable to look at her. I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t look at Ray, either. My entire body felt odd, like a screw that had been wound too tightly.

“How old are you in this photo, Pam?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I mumbled to the empty space between the chairs and the front door.

“Pam…”

“I said no,” I countered. “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s done. It’s over with. If you’re going to suspend me, then do it. And leave me alone.”

“I can’t do that, Pam,” Mrs. Taylor leaned forward and reached for my free hand. “You’re underage, and if this photo is circulating the school, it’s dangerous for everyone concerned. You, Ray, Jason. I need to know what happened and why this exists.”

I bit down on my lip, tasting blood.

I looked over at Ray, who was unusually quiet, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.

“Fifteen…” I confessed.

Mrs. Taylor’s eyes went wide.

“I was fifteen when that photo was taken,” I felt the tears welling. “And, unfortunately, that’s not the worst of it.”

“The worst of it?” Mrs. Taylor prompted. “Pam, you do realize that what Jason has in his possession is classified as pornography?”

“Yes, I do know that, which is why I cracked him in the face with the lunch tray,” I managed, my entire body shaking. “He was trying to see if I’d roll over for him. And when I tried to ignore him he pushed the photo across the table and snapped my bra. Then when Ray tried to help, he accused Ray of being my pimp and asked for a discount…”

I hadn’t meant to say all of that. My shoulders were shaking, and nausea threatened to spill over at any moment. This time, though, it had nothing to do with the baby.

“Ray’s not my pimp, Mrs. Taylor,” I continued, emphasizing the point by grabbing Ray’s hand. “The Kowalskis have been nothing but kind, generous people who took me in when I had nowhere to go.”

“I believe you,” she answered. “I could never think Ray was anything other than your friend, and his family anything other than a support system for you.” She leaned forward and made eye contact with both Ray and I. “Who’s been doing this to you, Pam?”

I gulped.  It was there, stuck in the back of my throat like peanut butter, and yet I couldn’t bring myself to say anything.

“I feel sick,” I managed, looking over at Ray, gripping his hand so hard I wondered if I was capable of breaking his fingers. “Please don’t ask me anything else, Mrs. Taylor. I feel dirty.”

“You’re deflecting, Pam,” she insisted.

“ _Stop_ ,” I moaned, letting go of Ray’s hand and thrust my palms toward her in a silencing motion, my head spinning. “Just stop talking to me right now. I really appreciate you coming over, and if you’re going to suspend me, do it, but just…. stop.” I put my head in my hands, willing the headache that had started to disappear.

The room was silent as I fought to keep myself from punching the wall. She had no idea what had happened, and here she was, telling me I had to confess everything, as though I’d done something wrong! God, I wanted to hit her. Hit her until she looked like how I felt inside. Dirty and used and disgusting and not worth a bucket of warm spit.

“We need to go to the police, Pam,” she insisted, speaking both to me and Ray, as though she had any control over the situation. “In fact, they should have been called as soon as this picture was discovered.”

“On what charge?” I grit out. “I haven’t done anything wrong!”

“Hold on,” Ray interrupted. “Why are we talking about getting the cops involved? Who’s to say they’ll be able to do anything?”

“We are not calling the police,” I hissed.

“What happened to you is, at the very least, assault,” Mrs. Taylor interjected.

“For snapping a bra?”

“No, for the photo, and whatever else happened when you said that wasn’t the worst of it,” she corrected, pointing toward the folder that was now closed and laying beside her on the couch. “They wouldn’t charge you in any case. You’re the victim in this instance.”

Ugh, that word again.

“Listen to me very carefully, Mrs. Taylor. We are _not_ calling the police,” I repeated, staring at her. “They didn’t believe me the last time and they won’t believe me now.”

Ray’s mouth dropped open.

“I’m sorry the police didn’t take you seriously,” Mrs. Taylor leaned forward. “But I’m sure that this time-”

“Did _you_ deal with them?” I was dangerously close to losing my temper. “Did they answer your call and then tell you there wasn’t enough evidence to even bring anyone in for questioning?”

“Well no…”

“Well don’t make out like it’s not true then,” I snarled at her. I stood up and wiped imaginary dirt from my knees. “As I said, I do appreciate the house call, but I’m really tired. I think I’m going to go have a nap. Do you mind, Ray?”

“No, not at all,” he answered, standing up and offering Mrs. Taylor his hand. “I’ll get your coat.”

As Ray bid her goodbye, I couldn’t help the sinking feeling in my stomach that she was not going to let the matter go. We’d be hearing a lot more about it, especially with Mrs. Taylor pushing her nose in where it didn’t belong.

**ooOoo**

Of course, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that I’d been suspended. I wasn’t too fussed about it, really. One week was worth it for what that douchebag had done. What had Mrs. Taylor said his name was? Jason? Who cares?

Anyway, being home for a week allowed for me to book a doctor’s appointment. It would be the first one since I’d been told I was pregnant, and, truth be told, aside from the nausea and occasional morning sickness, Barbara told me she could barely tell.

I figured it was still too early for an ultrasound, that this appointment would be more to do with blood work and urine samples. But then again, I didn’t know how far along I was. Perhaps they’d do one just to check gestational age. And if they could determine that, I could count backward and…

Well, we’d cross that bridge when we got to it.

**ooOoo**

I left the doctor’s office to find Ray waiting in the parking lot, dozing in the driver’s seat with the radio playing softly, the radio tuned to classical music. Funny, I’d never pictured him as someone who enjoyed that kind of music, but people often surprise you.

“Hey lover,” I smirked, getting into the passenger side and buckling my seat belt. “Thank you for coming to pick me up.”

“No problem, gorgeous,” Ray winked, shifting us into first gear and setting off toward the house. “Mom’s so excited to hear about the sounding she’s cleaned the whole house. Had to stop her from stripping paint off the wall.”

“Really? It was only an ultrasound to determine gestational age,” I answered, gripping his thigh as he drove. “Nothing too exciting.”

“So just how pregnant are you?”

“According to this, ten weeks,” I clutched the black and white piece of paper tightly. “Which is good. Counting backward, it’s not as bad as I thought it would be.”

“What do you mean?”

I gulped. “Pull over.”


	8. Counting Backward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ray and Pam have a long awaited talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra warning for implied incest and mentions of past abortions.
> 
> As always, extra special thanks to ButterflyGhost for the beta.

Ray stole a glance at me as he shifted gears. Pulling over to the side of the road, he turned the hazard lights on and waited. I must have sounded very harsh because he was staring at me with wide eyes.

“What did you mean, not as bad as you thought?” Ray asked, reaching and taking my hand.

I swallowed, the words sticking in my throat as I gripped my knees to stop myself from shaking. Might as well get it over with.

But maybe not while we were in the car.

“Can we go to the park?” I asked, suddenly inspired.

“What?” Ray blinked.

“I swear I’ll tell you what I mean when we get there,” I continued, desperately trying to control the shaking that had started. “Just not in the car. I might throw up when I tell you, and I don’t want to do that in here.”

“We can do that,” Ray nodded and got us back on the road. Once we arrived, we walked through the swing set and baseball diamond to a rather secluded area in the hope of finding some privacy. I know you may think that sounds terrible, considering what that can sometimes lead to, but it was my idea. I didn’t want anyone overhearing.

We found a bench at the very edge of the park and sat down in silence for as long as I could manage it. Truthfully, I wanted nothing more than to blurt everything out all at once, tell him everything so it would stop eating at me.

Now or never, I decided. I reached out and grabbed Ray’s hand, holding on for dear life. When I told him this, I was sure he would be disgusted. He might never speak to me again, let alone want me anywhere near him.

“It could have been my father’s,” I blurted, garbling the sentence.

I saw Ray’s eyes bulge slightly, but to his credit he didn’t pull away. Instead, he let go briefly and put his arm around me, letting my head rest on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Why? It’s not your fault,” I turned my head and kissed his cheek. “If anything, this is good news.”

“Good news?”

“Now that I know how far along I am, I counted backward,” I explained, closing my eyes against the light. “And the baby is not my father’s.”

“Do you know whose, then?”

“Some guy,” I shrugged my shoulders. “I never knew their names. Frankly I’m just happy it’s not my father’s. That’s the reason I had the previous abortions.”

Ray jumped a little. So he wasn’t infallible.

“All… all three of them?” he stammered, as though he were struggling to understand the enormity of what I’d just told him - that any or all of my three babies could have been my father’s child.

“Well, I don’t know for sure about all three of them, but with all that was going on, I couldn’t risk bringing a baby into that situation. If that means I’m going to hell for trying to make the best of a bad situation, then so be it.”

“Pam, don’t put words in my mouth, I never said you were going to hell,” he countered, standing up and holding out his hand for me.   

“You didn’t say it, but you were thinking it,” I insisted, turning away from him and staring at the footpath less than 30 feet away.

“How would you know what I was thinking?”

“By the way you’re looking at me.”

“Like what?” he asked, his hand lifting my chin up. He stared at me and gave me a small smile.

“Like I’m a dirty whore,” I managed. “It’s one thing to know it, it’s quite another to hear it out loud.”

He must have realized that there was no way he was going to be able to convince me otherwise, especially not at that point. Instead, I heard him whisper my name and hold me while I sobbed into his jacket.

Once I’d cried myself out, he picked me up and carried me back to the car. And once we got home, I looked in the mirror to see that my eyes were still red, my face splotchy, and I was absolutely worn out. I couldn’t even get out of the passenger seat.

So we just sat in the driveway for a while. We stared out the windshield at the garage door, and let me tell you, Damien had done a wonderful paint job on it. Just lovely.

I watched Ray tilt his head back against the headrest on the driver’s seat. “You’re not, you know.”

“Not what?”

“A… you know.”

“You can say it, Ray, I won’t be offended,” I coached him. “Go on: Whore.”

“I can’t.”

“Just try. You’ll hear it a lot when someone is talking about me. Might as well make it less awkward.” I reached over and put a hand on his cheek, turning his head and making him look at me. “It’s no different than your biology teacher making you yell out penis and vagina to stop the entire class giggling at the mere thought of mentioning the proper names of private parts,” I reasoned.

He went red and dropped his head, staring at his lap. “Not a whore,” he mumbled, as though he were assessing how the word felt on his tongue.

“There, that wasn’t so bad,” I smiled, hoping to reassure him. “Although I’m not sure I believe you. What else do you call someone who has sex for money?”

“A prostitute,” he answered. “But that’s not you, either. Didn’t you say you had no choice in the matter?” Ray unbuckled his seat belt and rolled up the window. If they were going to talk about it, they might as well keep the conversation confined to the car.

“True, but that doesn’t stop me thinking that that’s all I could ever be,” I reasoned, placing my hand lightly on my belly, suddenly very aware of the little life that was growing inside me. “After four years of this, it’s very difficult to think of myself as anything other than a piece of ass.”

He nodded. “I don’t think of you that way.”

“You’re one of the very few,” I smiled at him.

The silence in the car was absolutely deafening, but I still couldn’t make my legs work.

“Remember how I said I counted backward?” It wasn’t exactly what I’d been hoping would come out of my mouth, but it would do.

Ray nodded, now staring at the garage door.

“I think I remember who.”

His eyes bulged slightly.

“Really?”

“Well, not his name,” I repeated. “But I think I remember where. It was a birthday party.”

“The guy who got you pregnant had you at his birthday party? What kind of party was this?”

“Not all that bad, really,” I really had to concentrate to remember what exactly had happened. “Poor guy. His friends pushed him into it. They figured, hey, he should have fun, why not with a good looking girl who has experience?” I stopped myself from snorting. “I made him wear a condom, because it’s always better to be safe than sorry at parties, right?” I saw Ray nod in response. “He was a very sweet guy, not one of the bad ones, just a little clumsy.”

“Clumsy? What, what do you mean clumsy?”

“I mean he wasn’t quite sure what he was doing,” I continued, tapping my foot to see if I could make myself move. Okay, good. I wasn’t frozen to the seat, not literally anyway. “I don’t think he had any sort of experience, so having me must have been a wake up call if there ever was one.”

Ray clenched his jaw. “So the condom broke, then?”

“Yeah, “ I nodded. “It would make sense. After all, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d been a virgin. He looked pretty nervous,” I nodded, feeling much calmer now. “And now that I know, I need to ask your mom and dad something.”

“You ready to go inside?”

I nodded.

We got out of the car and walked through the front door, hand in hand.


	9. Worn Out and Wound Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Pam makes a decision regarding her baby, and Ray wants to do something nice for Pam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by the absolutely brilliant ButterflyGhost.

In truth, I’d never been so terrified to walk in the door, although I had no reason to worry. I had only gone for an ultrasound, and I had to remember that Barbara and Damien didn’t know the whole story. They were just waiting to hear the results of the ultrasound; they hadn’t heard everything I’d told Ray.

We were both expecting trouble, with my splotchy face and red eyes and Ray holding my hand, but Barbara just smiled and put a bowl of soup on the table.

“You’re not eating enough, Pam,” she insisted. “Here, this should help you feel better.”

“You’re too good to me, Barbara,” I sat down like she asked and ate as much as I could, which ended up being about half the bowl. “I’m sorry, I can’t eat anymore. I don’t want to be sick.”

“Well it’s better than last time,” she nodded, picking up the bowl and putting it in the sink. “So, how did the ultrasound go?”

“Oh fine,” I answered, smiling at Ray as he fumbled with the zipper on his schoolbag that had been lying by the chair. “They took blood and a urine sample, and said I’m as healthy as can be expected.”

“Did they say how far along you are?” she joined them at the table.  

“About ten weeks,” I answered, trying to work out my due date. “If it’s the second week of September…” I counted the weeks off on my fingers. “I think I’m due sometime in April.”

“Well that gives you time to figure out what you want to do.”

“That’s the thing,” I swallowed. Talk about a perfect opening. “Do you remember when I first got here, and you told me that it looked like I had two options?”

“What’s this about two options?” Ray looked up from his textbook, which I found odd. Since when did Ray read his textbooks?

“The first morning I was here,” I explained. “You weren’t awake yet, but Barbara and I had a nice conversation about what I could do, with my being pregnant and all. Abortion was out, so there were the two others left.”

“Yes, I do remember, dear,” Barbara interrupted, not unkindly. “But I also said you don’t have to rush your decision.”

“I know that, but I think I know what I want to do,” I started. Okay, now the nervousness was creeping up on me again. “You did say that, if I wanted to, I could raise the baby with your help?”

Barbara nodded.

“Is that offer still open?”

A smile broke out over the older woman’s face. “I’ll speak to Damien about it, honey, but I don’t see any reason why not,” she offered, taking my hand and looking at Ray, whose mouth had dropped open. “Oh Stanley, close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.”

I laughed, and then a terrible feeling of dread spread throughout my entire body.

“What if he says no?” I blurted. “What if Damien doesn’t want me here now that the baby is not going up for adoption?”

“Was adoption ever on the table?” Ray cut in.

“No, never,” I insisted. “It was either abortion or raise the baby myself, and I wasn’t sure about that until I saw this,” I pulled a black and white picture out of my pocket and unfolded it.

Barbara covered her mouth and tears filled her eyes. The ultrasound picture showed my baby lying in its back, flexing little fingers and toes, floating in the middle of the screen as if greeting me.

“As soon as I saw that, I knew,” I continued, tears welling. “I knew I would never be able to give my baby up.”

Barbara was smiling through her tears. “I’ll speak with Damien when he gets home tonight, Pam,” she assured me. “And then we’ll figure out a plan.”

"Thank you,” I murmured, getting up to hug her tightly.

**ooOoo**

It wasn’t until after breakfast the next day, while I was doing the dishes and Ray was outside raking leaves that both Damien and Barbara called me into the dining room. As far as I knew, they didn’t use that space for anything other than big holiday dinners, or when Barbara had so much work it spilled out onto the table from her sewing room, so for them to be talking in there, it had to mean something.

“So, uh, Barbara was telling me that you’re not giving the baby up for adoption,” he stated, as though he knew it were a fact and there was no point arguing.

“I can’t,” I answered, sitting down with them. “Now that I’ve seen the ultrasound, I just can’t. I want to be a mom, but I can’t do it on my own,” I folded my arms in front of me on the table. “You could have knocked me over with a feather when Barbara said I could stay, even with the baby, but I don’t want to impose.”

“It’s not an imposition,” Damien answered, shifting in his chair. “But I do need to ask you something.”

I nodded, silently giving him permission to continue.

“I don’t mind having you stay here, Pam, providing you get a job and stay in school, but we do need you to be honest with us.”

“Honest, what do you mean honest?” Granted, I hadn’t told them absolutely everything, but then again, I hadn’t told anyone the whole story. Ray only knew what he did because he’d been in the cafeteria. “If this is an interrogation-”

“No interrogation, I just need to ask you something,” Damien interrupted. “I only know what Ray told us, and if that’s all you want us to know about that part of things, that’s fine, but this has to do with the baby.”

“What did he tell you?” I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear this, but I understood it was probably going to become a necessary evil.

“That you ran because your dad had been beating up on you.”

That was it?

“Yes, that’s true.” I decided that the simplest explanation was the right one, especially in this instance. “And that’s all I’ll say about it.” I insisted. “But you said it had to do with the baby?”

“Yes, in a way,” Barbara interjected. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you, honey. But I need to know, if your father was hurting you, why did you not tell your mother? Gone to her?”

Nobody knew about this part, so, like I’d promised, I told the truth. “I don’t know where she is,” I confessed. “She left when I was eight.”

Barbara gasped. “But isn’t she your alternate emergency contact?”

“That’s just a formality,” I explained, looking away from them and drumming my fingers on my chin. “I used the address from the last card she sent me when I was thirteen.” I was having a really hard time looking at them. If I did, I’d cry. “I don’t understand. What did I do to deserve getting beat up? What was so wrong with me that she didn’t take me with her?”

And then it happened. Whatever resolve I had crumbled, and soon I was sobbing in Barbara’s arms. My shoulders were heaving and my entire body shook, my hand over my belly. Silently, I promised my baby that I would never do what my mother had done to me, but I would need help.

The room had gone strangely quiet. I had no idea where Damien had gone, but soon the back door opened and closed, Ray reappearing from the yard.

“Pam, what happened?”

“It’s alright, Stanley,” Barbara answered, kissing my head. “She’s just a bit overwhelmed.”

Overwhelmed wasn’t the word for it. I was worn out and wound up at the same time, unable to focus on anything other than the fact that Barbara had me in her arms. I couldn’t even look at Ray, never mind trying to talk to him.

When I finally got myself under control, I sat up and blew my nose, tossing the tissue into the garbage can.

“I think I’ll go sit in the car for a little bit,” I said. Barbara nodded as I stood up and grabbed my jacket out of the closet.

“I’ll uh… go make sure she’s okay,” I heard Ray mumble as I went out the front door.

“Stanley,” Barbara called to him as I closed the door behind me. I recognized that tone. It was the “We’re going to talk about this thing you have with Pam and here are all the ways to protect yourself” tone. Not that I was particularly offended at that; Barbara was still his mother, and with me being in the house, I knew she’d be worried about having me around, what with all my experience.

He emerged about twenty minutes later, staring at his shoes as he got into the driver’s side.

“So, what did she say?” I asked as he buckled his seat belt and put the key in the ignition.

“Just for us to be careful,” he answered, keeping his eyes on the road as he backed out of the driveway. “She was talking about diseases and all that crap. As though you’re capable of that.”

“She’s right, you know,” I insisted. “They had the results of my earlier blood work when I went for the ultrasound, and I’m in the clear. And I’m very lucky to be,” I put my hand on his thigh as we drove. “Many of them don’t use protection, I brought in more money going bareback, as it were.”

Ray grit his teeth, gripping the steering wheel for dear life as he did. “Still, don’t you think it’s a little insulting?”

“What? Your mother being worried about you, about what might happen between you and me? No. If anything, I’m flattered. If she thinks anything is going to happen, she wants you to be safe.” I turned my head and looked out the window. “Where are we going, anyway?”

“I don’t know. Is there somewhere you want to go?” he asked, turning down the street near the school.

“Somewhere quiet,” I told him, rubbing the back of my neck. “I know you probably have a lot of questions, and I want privacy.”

Of course!

“Do you have cash?” I asked.

“Cash?”

“We could get a motel room for a couple of hours,” I reasoned. “They don’t know me and they won’t know who you are. That’s privacy and quiet all in one.”

I saw him shake his head. “Too risky,” he answered, stealing a glance at me as he drove. “Besides, you’re worth more than a dingy motel room.” I saw his eyes light up. “Perfect!”

“What?”

“Have you ever been on a picnic?”

“A picnic?” I giggled. “No, I can’t say that I have.”

“Then let’s get some picnic food and we’ll drive out by ourselves,” he suggested, turning into the grocery store.

We emerged a few minutes later with bags full of sandwiches, fruit, and tea, and floored it out of town.


	10. Pulled in Every Direction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picnics can be wondrous things, especially if you've never been on one before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by the absolutely brilliant ButterflyGhost
> 
> Warning for happy endings in a secluded park
> 
> Thank you to everyone who is reading this story, I truly appreciate it. Please feel free to comment, the door is always open.

“You know, you didn’t have to do this for me,” I smiled as I laid out a blanket that had happened to be in the truck of the car. Smoothing out the wrinkles as I laid it on the grass, we both sat down together and unwrapped the sandwiches.

“I wanted to,” I watched as Ray took an apple from the grocery bag and bit into it. “You’re my friend, Pam, and I wanted to do something nice for you.”

“You’re very sweet. This is lovely,” I took a bite of my sandwich and covered my mouth as I chewed. “No one’s ever done this for me before.” Then I remembered the rumours about him having a girlfriend, and suddenly my stomach sank. What did she think of all this, if he’d had a chance to tell her? “Whoever she is, she’s lucky to have you.”

I hadn’t meant to say to upset him, although it was clear I had touched a nerve. I saw Ray look down at the blanket, obviously still hurting from whatever had happened between him and… what’s her name.

“Yeah, uh, me and Stella, we’re not together anymore.”

I grimaced. “How long has it been?”

“About three months,” he unscrewed the lid of his tea mug and took a long sip, taking care to look past me at the tree.

Oh God. In the midst of my crisis, he’d also been dealing with his own heartbreak. Or maybe he had already begun to move on. Although from the looks of things, he was still hurting quite badly. I did the only thing I could think of, and reached out for his hand.

He smiled and lifted my arm, kissing the inside of my wrist.

“Is there something I can do to help?” I asked, cupping his cheek.

“There is, but… uh,” he stumbled. “I don’t want to insult or hurt you by asking.”

Oh! I was pretty sure I understood what he meant, but he was a little embarrassed to ask the question outright. To take the burden of proposition away from him, I closed the gap between us and gently kissed him. “You won’t hurt me,” I whispered in his ear by way of invitation. “Other people did, but you won’t.”

His eyes changed, going dark. I leaned back and shifted, giving him enough room to maneuver, guiding his hand under my shirt. His fingers brushed against my stomach and down over my pants, touching lightly. “Did they hurt you here?”

I nodded, hooking my fingers into my pants and pulling them down just enough for Ray to have access. His smile as he pulled them the rest of the way down and off, throwing them off to the side and into the grass was shy and cheeky at the same time. I shifted again and waited until he laid himself down on his stomach, gently prying my legs open.

I gasped when he kissed me over my panties, asking for permission. He looked up at me, grinned, and pulled the fabric down, but immediately froze.

“Hey,” I balanced on one elbow and reached forward, pushing a stray strand of hair out of his eyes. “It’s okay, I’ll walk you through it.”

**ooOoo**

God, did I feel stupid. Asking for permission and then forgetting what I was supposed to be doing. Not that I knew, exactly. I’d always thought that I’d know, that I’d figure it out and be able to do it as soon as any girl would let me.

At least, I’d hoped I’d know. Never had a chance before. Stella had been too nervous, saying she wanted to wait before we had sex, so I didn’t push her, and when she dumped me, I didn’t even want to think about it.

And now Pam is here and she’s ready and willing and oh God, she smells so good…

I knew enough not to start into it right away so instead I kissed the inside of her thigh and made my way down until I was _there_ and she whimpered and sweet Jesus she tastes great.

I felt her grab the back of my head and push me closer, whispering instructions, guiding me as she said she would.

It doesn’t take long before she’s grinding against my mouth and her instructions are a little garbled and I can feel my dick getting hard and- yeah, I can taste her; she’s just flooded, I think that’s what it’s called. Her thighs are shaking and she’s trying to get her breath back…

If I don’t do something to relieve the pressure I’m gonna come in my pants. I guess I must look pretty far gone because that’s when Pam does the incredible. She flips me over and undoes the button and the zipper and pulls me out, stroking like she did in the car. But then she takes me in her mouth and uses her tongue in ways that might be illegal because of how good it feels. I don’t last long, and soon I’m coming so hard my vision blurs.

She lets me go and scrambles up beside me, and kisses me. It’s just about the hottest thing I’ve ever done in my life, tasting my come in her mouth and tasting her in mine.

It’s not long before I fell asleep, not even caring that we’re outside.

**ooOoo**

Again, we had to be really careful when coming home. Luckily, both Ray and I have excellent poker faces, and we hoped we had been gone long enough to sneak in without being noticed.

If either Barbara or Damien knew anything, we didn’t hear about it. Perhaps that conversation Ray had had about protection was enough of an indicator that something _could_ happen, and if it did, well at least he was well informed.

You know how they sometimes say that sex will change the nature of a relationship, and not always for the better. I didn’t find that with Ray. We were friends, and that was all. The sex was just an added benefit. Well, it wasn’t _really_ sex, not quite.

But if that happened, I don’t think I would say no. After all, that was one of the first times I’d come like that and not felt absolutely terrible for it. And Ray had been pretty good. A little nervous and shy, especially for his first time, but overall, he wasn’t bad for someone who didn’t have a wealth of experience in that area.

I went back to my room and laid down on the bed, smiling to myself. Running a hand over my belly, I noticed a slight distension. Most of that was most likely water retention, but there was no question of a bump starting.

Sighing, I sat up and went to sit at the desk by the dresser. Picking up a pen, I figured I might as well get started on filling out those job applications I'd picked up. What better way to distract yourself from thoughts of being eaten out than by filling out job applications?

It took about an hour or so, if I counted actually typing up my resume. I’d had to find Barbara and ask her where they kept the typewriter, and lucky for me, they kept it in the back of the closet in my room. Once I set it up and was just about to sit down to my homework, there was a knock at the door.

“Mom wants to know if you still want her to cut your hair,” Ray leaned on the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest and smirking.

“What’s that smirk for?” I smiled, seeing his tongue poking out between his teeth.

“Oh nothing,” he ran a finger over his eyebrow.  

“No, not nothing, otherwise I don’t think you’d be standing in the doorway staring at me,” I leaned back in the chair and crossed my arms over my chest. “The answer to your question is yes, I’d still like her to cut my hair,” I turned off the typewriter to avoid overheating and stood up. I moved right by Ray, making sure to run my fingers over his belt before walking out of the room toward the kitchen.

“Oh, I see Stanley found you,” Barbara smiled at me as I walked into the kitchen.

“Yeah, um, I was just sitting down to start on Othello when he came to the door,” I answered, tugging on my earlobe briefly. “Although I’m thinking it’s more than whether or not I’d like a haircut, right?”

Barbara smirked as she shook out one of Damien’s shirts and set to folding it on the kitchen table. “Figured me out, did you?”

“Not completely,” I admitted, grabbing another shirt from the laundry basket- this one looked like Ray’s- and folded it alongside her. “Is there something wrong?”

“No, not wrong, precisely,” Barbara gave her a small smile. “I know you want to help with the bills and everything, and I’m touched that you’d offer…”

“I sense a “but” coming.”

“But,” Barbara continued. “This is Chicago, dear, and as much as I’d like to think that most people I know are very forward-thinking, there are still going to be questions.”

“Questions,” I rolled my tongue over my teeth. “Questions like why would anyone be stupid enough to keep an unwed teenage mother on their staff?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” she picked up a pair of socks and rolled the tops one over the other to avoid the elastic wearing out. “It’s not right, of course it’s not, but I can’t help thinking that perhaps you’re getting your hopes up.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try,” I reasoned. “I’m not the first unwed teenage mother and I won’t be the last. I’m sure there must be someone who would be willing to take me on, even if it’s just for a few months. And everyone has to start somewhere.”

“Very true,” Barbara finished folding the last piece of laundry. “Now I’m not sure what kind of work experience you have, but try to put in as many applications as you can.”

“That’s my plan,” I assured her. “I’m thinking that a good first time job may be at a coffee shop? Or waitressing?”

“I think that might be too hard on your feet once you start to show,” Barbara answered. “Maybe you could try the library? Or even the grocery store?”

“What about the bookstore?” I nearly dropped the shirt I was folding, suddenly inspired. “I love to read, and I love the smell of new books.”

Barbara smiled. “Then you go right ahead and apply, sweetheart,” she put the laundry basket under her arm, and reached out to brush my hair out of my face. “But you’ll still need a haircut.”

I laughed to myself as she went back toward the bedrooms.


	11. On the Themes of Stolen Virtue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ray and Pam fight, and insecurities and fears are revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by the absolutely fabulous ButterflyGhost. 
> 
> Warning for happy endings in a motel room and first time sex.

Ray walked in just as Barbara had left, and wrapped his arms around my middle, resting his chin on my shoulder.

“You okay?”

“I’m great,” I smiled, leaning away from him just enough to kiss his cheek. “I need to go finish typing out that essay I have. Just because I’m suspended doesn’t mean I don’t have to work." 

“True, but I didn’t think you’d be going full tilt right away.”

“What did you expect? That just because I’d been out of school for four years that I wouldn’t be held to the same standard as everyone else?”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all,” he held up his hands in surrender. “I thought they’d maybe go a little easier on you.”

“I don’t want special treatment, Ray,” I snapped, running a hand through my hair. “Just because I started later in September does not mean I shouldn’t try to catch up. I already have to repeat a year, I don’t want to be any further behind.”

“Far be it for me to get in your way, Princess Pamela,” he snapped, letting go of me and giving me space to turn around.

“Fuck you too, Stanley,” I growled, crossing my arms over my chest. “Now, do you mind getting out of here so I can finish this essay?”

He narrowed his eyes at me, turned, and walked out.

Once he’d left, I closed the door, sat back down at the desk, and put my head down, sighing. I could hear the blood roaring in my ears, and I was breathing hard. God, did I ever want  to hit him. Fucking dick, where did he get off calling me a princess? Princesses aren’t unwed teenage mothers who were once prostitutes!

A sudden boom and crack just as the front door closed told me that  it had started raining. Not that that should have surprised me. It had gone cloudy just after we had gotten home, and I thought I’d heard something about that on the morning news just after breakfast.

I wrenched the door open and went to the front door. He’d left his jacket behind, and, when I looked out the window, his car was still in the driveway.

Fucking hell!

I grabbed my  own jacket and bolted out the door. Of all places, Ray had left the keys on the table by the front entrance. I backed the car out of the driveway and drove down the street, searching for him.

Finally, just around the corner, I found him walking with his head down, his collar popped up uselessly, trying to protect him from the rain.

I leaned on the horn and caught his attention, reaching over and rolled down the passenger side window.

He stared at me with wide eyes when he realized I was in the front seat, driving his precious car.

“What the hell, Pam? You don’t even have your license!” He shouted at me, hair lying flat and his shirt absolutely drenched. His shoulders were hunched over, just enough to keep from making eye contact with me. In truth, I think he was looking past me.

“I do so! It’s just not on me!” I shouted over the rain. “I wasn’t about to let you catch your death of pneumonia, you stubborn dickhead! Get in!”

“Not in the passenger seat.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Jesus H. Christ, Pam!” his voice shook- I couldn’t tell if it was because he was cold or if he was so angry he was having trouble speaking. “You don’t get to drive _my_ car and tell me what to do!” He glared at me, as though he wanted nothing more than to strangle me at that very moment. “You’re not my mother!”

“And thank fuck for that!” I shouted back, startling him. “It’s a wonder she hasn’t gone loopy, being your mother…” I shook my head and banged my hand on the steering wheel, accidentally honking the horn again.  “Fucking hell,” I muttered under my breath. “Fine!” I shouted in exasperation. I opened up the driver’s side and went around the front of the car, grabbing him by the shirt when he started moving. “It’s your car, you drive!”

He froze, _we_ froze, my hand still clenched around the fabric of his wet shirt, his eyes went wide and hungry.

Anyone driving past would think we looked absolutely ridiculous, with one door open and the flashers on in the pouring rain, the two of us wrapped around each other and frozen in place. 

“What are we doing, Pam?” his voice cracked.

What are we doing? What does it _look_ like we’re doing? Playing ping-pong?

“This.”

Breathing hard, I pulled him toward me and kissed him for all I was worth. His lips were cold and tasted of rainwater, but when he opened his mouth, all I could taste was _him._

I wanted much more of that.

When he tried to pull away, about to tell me that this wasn’t a good idea, I said the one word I was sure I’d never say when kissing Ray Kowalski.

“Please.”

Something changed, and we let each other go, scrambling to get back to our respective sides of the car. Once back inside, we were soaking wet and cold, but I couldn’t resist.

I leaned over and kissed him again, wanting him out of his clothing as quickly as possible.

“Pam,” he broke away from me and leaned against the window. He turned his face away, but there was a tightness in his jaw and his fist close to his mouth, as though he were biting down on his knuckles. “I don’t want to take you somewhere seedy. I don’t want to be- I don’t want to be like those men who-”

“You’re nothing like them, you never will be,” I reached over and ran a knuckle down his cheek.

“I just- I want- I don’t know what you want, Pam,” he sounded so desperate, wanting to be sure he was saying the right thing. “What do you need?”

“I don’t care at this point,” I whispered, reaching out to him, tilting his face toward me. His eyes were a little red, and his mouth opened. I nipped his bottom lip in reassurance. “Just take me somewhere with a bed.”

Nodding, he pushed the pedal to the floor.

I'll never remember how we got to the motel. I remember watching the wipers swishing the water back and forth as we drove, and I remember my heart was in my mouth, like this was the first time I never got to have. I remember him kissing me again and then....

The floor. The carpet. Dear God, I remember we didn’t even make it to the bed. I remember Ray being on top of me, kissing down my neck and pulling at the buttons on my shirt. It was like he knew that something like this _should_ happen, but he wasn’t quite sure what to do.

So I squeezed him with my thighs and turned him over so he was on his back. His eyes were wide as I bent down and captured his lips, wanting to taste him again.  

Fuck, he tasted so good. It was all I can do to tear myself away enough to fumble at the button and zipper on his jeans and pull them off, and he was so wound up he was having trouble focusing on anything but scratching at the carpet under his fingers.

He kicked his pants off from under me and I snorted slightly. His hips were bucking, silently pleading with me for some sort of relief. I wasn’t even out of my clothes yet and he was already pretty far gone.

Smiling at him as he writhed underneath me, I leaned forward and kissed him again. We were both too impatient for anything other than getting our pants and underwear off, and I sank down on him slowly, crying out as he filled me.

The most fascinating thing about this was watching him as he filled me. My eyes squeezed shut. When I opened them again I could see every detail of his face- he looked… he looked....

I can’t describe how he looked. But I could almost see his brain working. Something was telling him to put his hands on my hips, so he did. I let him guide my movements and slowed right down.

“That’s it,” I whispered, leaning forward and brushing his wet hair out of his face. He pumped his hips and his eyes closed in ecstasy. I arched against him and he slid in deeper. “God, Ray, you feel good.”

I think I might have seen him go a little red at being praised. “Oh fuck!” he managed, throwing his head back and biting his lip.

“It’s okay, let me hear you,” I whispered again, kissing his cheek. “Let me hear you. Tell me what you need.”

“Need…” he breathed, opening his eyes. His pupils were completely blown. “Need your mouth.”

I obliged, kissing him as he pumped harder and faster, close to the edge. This was almost child’s play, considering what I was used to, but oh Lord, it was brilliant. Here I was, giving my body over on my own terms, on the floor of a motel room, to someone who had done everything he could to help me.

And I loved him.  

His movements were more erratic now, faster and faster. His hips jerked just enough to hit that one spot, and I lost it.

I clenched as he came, his hips stilling and his chest heaving.

“Oh God,” he whispered as I rolled off of him and curled up beside him. “I…”

“Shh,” I put a finger to his lips to silence him, then leaned over and kissed him. “You did great.”

He was still trying to catch his breath as he reached up and pulled the blanket off the bed and pulled it over us.

As he fell asleep, I rested my head on his chest. I waited in silence, listening to his breathing as it evened out. I knew we couldn’t stay very long, because there was no way Damien and Barbara could find what had happened, but he looked so peaceful I didn’t want to wake up. I propped myself up on my elbow and brushed his hair off his forehead, thankful that I had at least been able to give him something in return.

A little over an hour later, we were both awake and very calmly rearranging clothes and toweling ourselves off. There was no reason for either of us to feel awkward about it, although I’m pretty sure he had no idea what the proper protocol was for something like this.

Not that it really mattered at that point. We had to get home, and we’d worry about whatever protocol he might want to ask me about once the house was quiet. First time sex was awkward at the best of times, and we were both trying our best to still look at each other, because we knew we had make it look as though nothing was amiss. If we suddenly stopped speaking, Barbara would know something had happened, and I certainly did not want to be explaining this to anyone.

And I was sure he didn’t either.


	12. Awkward but Necessary Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray and Pam clear the air, and the Kowalskis hear a rumour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by the most brilliant ButterflyGhost. 
> 
> Apologies that it's been so long since this was updated. I hope you're still reading, and please feel free to comment, the door is always open.

We went off to our own rooms when we got home. Barbara was in the kitchen when we arrived, and, noticing our waterlogged appearance, ordered us off to go get changed lest we catch our death of cold.

Ray squeezed my hand and disappeared. I took that to mean that he would come and find me later, and we would talk about it. Because I understood that no matter how well your first time went, it was natural to have questions. I’d never had the chance to do that, and there was no way I was not going to give Ray the opportunity to talk it out.

It was quite a bit later, when the house was quiet except for the typewriter clacking away. Even after all the fuss this essay had created, I was determined to finish it. Well, maybe not the whole thing in one night, but maybe the first page, page and a half. That would be a good start.

I was so focused on writing the last sentence of a paragraph that I barely heard Ray tap lightly on the door frame.

“Hey,” he whispered, catching my attention just as I punched the last key on the machine and shut it off, again to prevent overheating.

“Just a second,” I unplugged the machine and went to sit on the bed. I held out my hand and beckoned him in. “How are you doing?”   

“Okay, I guess,” he muttered, coming to sit down on my bed. “You?”

“Why are you asking about me?” I asked, trying not to hurt his feelings. “You’re the one who just lost his virginity.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to make sure you were okay. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Oh no,” I assured him, taking his hand. “No, Ray, you didn’t hurt me. I’m more concerned about you. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” I parroted.

“No, I… I wasn’t sure if I hurt the baby.”

“I don’t think you can actually hurt the baby by having sex,” I squeezed his hand in reassurance. “Besides, she’s only about this big,” I held my thumb and forefinger about five inches away from each other.

“She?”

“Well, I don’t like saying ‘it’,” I reasoned, shrugging. “The baby will be their own little person when they’re born, and no one deserves to be called ‘it’, unborn or not.”

“Makes sense,” he nodded in agreement. “Are you sure you want a girl? What if the baby’s a boy?”

“Girl, boy, doesn’t matter,” I insisted. “I’ll be their mother either way. All I want is a healthy baby.” We were getting off topic. I cleared my throat and attempted to steer the conversation back to what he had originally come to talk about. “You sure you’re okay? Did you want to ask me anything else?”

“Um…” he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, moistening it. “Is it normal to want to do it again?”

I smiled. “Of course it is,” I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “And it’s perfectly okay.” Hell, if we weren’t in the house with Damien and Barbara down the hall, Lord knows I’d have been stripping him out of his clothes right then and there.

“Did you like it?” he seemed almost embarrassed to be asking.

I smiled, touched at his generosity. “I did,” I insisted. I was not saying this to boost his ego; it had truly been enjoyable. “Look, first time sex is awkward at the best of times, and you did brilliantly. There aren’t many people who would worry about how I felt afterward either.” I opened my arms and pulled him in for a hug. “You’re wonderful, Ray Kowalski, and I wouldn’t trade what we have for anything.”

“Even if we annoy each other?”

“Especially if we annoy each other,” I laughed into his shoulder. “If you like, we can keep this a secret, no one needs to know.”

“Right,” he agreed. “It’s our secret.”

I squeezed him tightly and pulled him down onto the bed. He rolled us over and settled against the wall, holding me close.

When I finally fell asleep, it was one of the first times that I’d slept the whole night through since I’d been at the Kowalski’s. There were no nightmares, and for that I was grateful.    

**ooOoo**

I got back from job hunting the next day at around 3pm, and Damien was sitting at the kitchen table, mug of tea in hand and Barbara sitting with him, listening to him and answering in hushed tones. Truthfully, I don’t think they heard me. Unfortunately, the only way to my bedroom was through the kitchen, so I had no choice but to walk by and hope that they didn’t notice me. 

“So you were sent home for starting a fight?” Barbara whispered. “What could have possibly been so bad that you felt the need to punch Jack Carter in the face?”

“You didn’t hear what he said,” Damien muttered as he took a sip of tea.

“What do you mean? Said what about whom?”

“About Pam,” he answered, his voice strained.

Once I heard my name, I kept my door open just enough to hear what they were saying. Perhaps if he described this Jack Carter, it could help me narrow down the list of possible fathers for my baby. Granted, it wasn’t a guarantee, but at least it was a start. Then again, a man old enough to be working at the factory with Damien seemed a bit too old from what I remembered of that birthday party, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

“Pam? Jack Carter is almost thirty-five years old! How could he possibly know who Pam is?”

“If I tell you, Barbara, I might just upset you, and I really don’t want to do that.”

“I need to know, especially if it concerns her, Damien.”

“If you insist,” Damien took a deep breath and told Barbara the whole story. Apparently it had started with the phrase “Did you see what Kowalski brought home? I wonder if his wife knows just what she has under her roof.” Then it progressed to asking how much Damien must have paid my dad for him to take me off his hands, because he could honestly attest to me being worth every penny.

I heard Barbara choke back a sob.

“So of course I had to ask him what the hell he was talking about,” Damien answered. “He laughed about it, Barb. He basically admitted to paying Pam’s dad to sleep with her…”

This wasn't news to me. Lots of men had paid for my services, the only difference now was that Damien knew about one of them.

“She’s a child, Barb!” Damien was struggling to keep his voice down. “What kind of person thinks it’s okay to do something like that to a  _ child _ ?” I heard him slap the table in frustration. “I saw red,” he admitted. “And the next thing I know, his face ran into my fist and he’s on the floor bleeding.”

“As well he should have been.” I could swear she was almost spitting venom, same as Damien was. “So you were suspended for starting the fight, which I understand, but what about Jack Carter?”

I didn’t hear about what had happened to Jack Carter because I simply couldn’t wait any longer. I pulled open my bedroom door and went out into the kitchen.

“What does he look like?”


	13. So Close to Madness that I Even Know its Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Pam tells the Kowalskis the truth, and they help her make a decision that is both terrifying and necessary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Apologies for the lack of updates, but here is another chapter! Ray and Pam's story isn't finished yet, not to worry.
> 
> Currently unbeta'd, so any and all mistakes are mine.

Damien’s face went white. It was quite clear that he hadn't expected me to be home yet, and was completely taken aback by my presence. 

“Pam, are you saying…”

Oh God, they knew. “Damien, it isn’t rocket science,” My voice cracked. Shit, I had to say it. I had to be blunt and brutal so that they would understand. “Yes, you heard Jack Carter correctly. These things have been happening and that’s all there is to it.” I steeled myself, waiting for their reaction, trying not to show them just how devastated I was that they had found out. “Now please, will you tell me what he looks like?”

As Damien went on to describe the man, I nodded, now knowing that there was no way Jack Carter was my baby’s father. But the look on both Damien and Barbara’s faces were almost too much to handle. Granted, I hadn’t been  _ lying  _ to them, not really. I just hadn’t told them absolutely everything.

“Pam, why didn’t you go to the police?” Barbara’s eyes were wide and her face pale with shock.

“I did,” I couldn’t help but feel that maybe this was going to turn into something resembling the talk I’d had with Mrs. Taylor before. “And they didn’t take me seriously. They came to the house, looked around, and told me there wasn’t enough evidence to bring anyone in for questioning.”

Barbara looked heartbroken and scandalized at the same time.

“I spent four more years under that roof, used as nothing more than a prostitute.” I knew something like this might happen. That if I said anything about it, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. “And I was  _ good _ at it. I brought in a lot of money, because my dad realized he could leverage my body and make a killing off me. The day I ran into the boxing gym was the day I finally had the courage to get out.” I was starting to shake now, long buried tears making their way to the surface. “It was just coincidence that I ran into Ray.”

I couldn’t tell if they were shocked or disgusted with me.

“I’m sorry to have done this to you,” I couldn’t stop myself. “Damien, you could lose your job and it’s all my fault.” I got up from the table to went to grab a bag from under the sink. “I’ll go.”

“Pam, wait,” Barbara finally found her voice and stood in front of me to stop me from leaving. “Come here, honey.” She pulled me to her and squeezed me tight. “You do  _ not _ need to go. We’ll help you through this.”

“But how can you stand to look at me?” I whispered back. “I never told you about this. Ray only knows because he figured it out on his own.”

“Sweetheart, I know this is terribly difficult for you, and I’m so sorry this happened,” Barbara walked with me to the living room, Damien following us in silence. “I’m sorry the police didn’t take you seriously, but  _ we _ do. You need to try again.”

“No, we’re not calling the police,” I leaned forward and put my head in my hands. “I can’t. If they know the whole story, they’ll see me as a piece of garbage who simply got fed up and is crying rape. I can’t…”

Damien was strangely quiet, but he wasn’t looking at me either. I glanced over Barbara’s shoulder and saw that he had his head in his hands, as though he couldn’t believe the truth of it.

“We’ll go with you,” Barbara insisted. “We don’t even have to call them. You can walk in and give a statement.”

How could she think I could be that brave?

“They won’t believe me,” I insisted.

“You won't know unless you try, honey,” she whispered. “You need to try.”

It took all my strength to keep myself upright. I clung onto Barbara as though she were my lifeline, and bit down on my lip.

“It’s okay to cry, Pam,” she whispered so only I could hear her. “I’ll hold you.”

And I did. I let absolutely everything out. It was more relief than anything else, really. I’d kept this a secret for so long that I couldn’t keep it in anymore. Both Barbara and Damien were holding me now, and the tensions melted out of my body.

By the time I’d finished, I’d made a decision. I was tired of being scared of anything and everything. I was tired of believing that I couldn’t be anything more than what I’d been used for… And if I wanted a job, I’d need my ID. I’d left it when I’d fled.

“I’ll go,” I muttered. “I’ll make a statement.”

ooOoo

The next morning, Ray offered to hold my hand the entire time if I needed him to, once I told him about my plan.

“No, I’ll go in by myself, but if you could wait for me, I’d like that.”

Ray nodded, struck dumb. We were sitting in the back of Damien’s car, and I was wrapped in a blanket. I’d barely slept the night before, and the lack of sleep and nerves meant that I couldn’t keep warm. I was so cold…

We’d made an appointment to see a Detective H. Welsh, although what the H stood for, I didn’t know. Not important. He moved out of the way and allowed me to sit at his desk, near the back of the station where it was quiet, but as soon as the words “I want to report a rape” left my mouth, he escorted me back toward an empty interview room.

“Your family can come too, if you like,” he’d said. All three Kowalskis immediately jumped up and followed us.

Were they my family?

What a stupid question, of course they were. Damien and Barbara had taken me in when I had nowhere else to go. They’d set me up in their spare bedroom and gotten me into school and Barbara had taught me how to make my own clothes…

Yes, they were my family, although I didn’t really see Ray as my brother. He was my best friend, and best friends can be family too.

Which is why the look on their faces when I asked them to wait outside while I spoke to Detective Welsh, knowing what I had to tell him, broke my heart.

“Now,” Detective Welsh sat back in his chair and was silent for a few seconds. “Miss Coltrane, you understand you can ask for a female officer to be in the room here with you, if that makes you more comfortable.”

“Actually, having someone else here might make me more uncomfortable, Detective Welsh,” I admitted. “But I appreciate the offer.” I laid a hand on my stomach, not exactly sure if I was actually showing yet and pulled the blanket I had around my shoulders closed with my other hand. “Um… where should I start?”

Detective Welsh sat slightly forward, not enough to get into my personal space. “Before we do, I need to let you know that we were about to call on you before you made this appointment.”

“You were?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “I don’t understand…”

“A Leslie Taylor from Rutherford High School reported an inappropriate picture of you being circulated around the school,” I could tell Detective Welsh was trying to be delicate. “She was concerned for you.”

I nodded. I  _ knew _ telling her had been a bad idea. She’d reported it when I hadn’t been ready to say anything. Interfering nosy bitch, where did she get off?

Remember how I said both Ray and I had excellent poker faces? This was a good time to use it, and I did.

“So you were on your way to question me when I called?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Either way, are you ready?”

I nodded.

“Okay,” he picked up his pen and waited. “When did this start?”

“The first time?”

He nodded. Detective Welsh had a fantastic poker face as well. He listened to the whole story. Everything from the first time I’d been sold to the beatings and brandings I’d been subjected to to the day I’d had enough and run. Oh, and then I told him about the baby. And the other pregnancies as well.

He continued writing everything that I said, until finally I was done talking.

We started at each other for quite a while, as though challenging him to contradict me, to say the same thing that had been said before, to tell me there wasn’t enough evidence…

“You said he branded you, Miss Coltrane?”

“Please call me Pam,” I insisted, tugging at my shirt sleeves. “Yes. He used one similar to one used for branding a cow, and never where it would be seen unless you were looking for it.”

Welsh nodded again.

“I don’t expect you to believe me, Detective, the police never have.”

“Pam…” he started. “I do believe you.” He put his pen down. “With everything you’ve told me, we can help you.”

“You believe me?”

“Yes, I do,” he nodded, his expression soft. “It’s not easy to come forward. I will keep working to get him. And if we need more, we’ll call.”

“Oh… okay…” my adrenaline was leaving me. I was suddenly cold again. “I’d like to go now. Could I please go?”

“Sure, sure,” he answered, and led me back out to where Damien, Barbara, and Ray were waiting. "But just be prepared to come back in. We may need to ask a few more questions or to get clarification."

Ray had never been one for sitting still, and even now, he looked a bit like a fly. They come in through an open window and can’t seem to find their way back again. When he saw me, he immediately closed the gap between us and grabbed my hand.

“Why don’t we walk home?” He leaned in and whispered in my ear.

I nodded, and we left the police station hand in hand, Barbara kissing me on the cheek and telling me that she’d see us at home.

I’d never been so happy and relieved in my entire life, and so scared.

What had I done?


End file.
